


Please, stay

by tenecty



Series: the King and his Guard [1]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Eventual Smut, Fluff, M/M, Mild Smut, Prince! Ten, guard! johnny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-23
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-08-27 23:13:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 34,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16711855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tenecty/pseuds/tenecty
Summary: Johnny’s job, is to make a King out of the cold hearted Prince Chittaphon LeechaiyapornkulNot to create a tragic love story.





	1. 1. 3934 THE CLOCK’S FIRST CHIME

**Author's Note:**

> !!!! this fic will be updated quickly (although a hiatus for next week because i'm traveling) so stay tuned to watch these too. 
> 
> warning! this fic contains a few mentions and descriptions of mental illnesses. the reason i wanted to incorporate this into this fic, is because i was inspired to do so by this fic called 'a dangerous night'. to be honest, i have always been uncomfortable or ashamed of my illnesses (they are not clinically treated, just because they are pretty mild and are infrequent; but enough to keep me feeling like death itself during certain times of the year), and i just wanted to share, maybe for myself, maybe because it might help others, i don't know. 
> 
> if you are sensitive or uncomfortable towards these things, please, do not read.

_ 1.  **3934 THE CLOCK’S FIRST CHIME** _

 

 

 

“Your majesty, Guard Johnny Seo has arrived.” 

 

The King, Lee Taeyong looks up from his seat. He has yet to reach 30, but his face is drawn and cheeks gaunt, his back hunched and face no longer radiant and full of youth as it was two years ago. The cancer was killing him, and although they have had the best physicians in the world see him, there was no cure. 

 

“Call him in.” Even in his weakness, Taeyong holds authority and command in his voice as he straightens his back, and pushes back his shoulders. 

 

“Emperor.” Johnny, the proclaimed best guard from the King’s right hand man, Jung Jaehyun, kneels respectfully, head bowed so low, it almost touches the ground. His posture is perfect, knee up, hand horizontal and parallel to the ground; Taeyong is pleased. 

 

“Please, be at ease, Guard Seo.” Taeyong commands, and the guard immediately stands up. He does not wear armour; he isn’t an army commander after all, and no one, other than those of that kind, wears their armour to meet the emperor. He wears a navy blue shirt, loose but buttoned, tucked neatly into his pants, with shiny boots. 

 

He is handsome, to say the least. His earring that is simple, pure, but glistens under the light, has Taeyong even more pleased. 

 

“Does your Majesty command me anything?” Johnny asks cautiously, head still bowed. 

 

“Of course.” Taeyong answers, clearing his desk a little, and then, he begins business, clasping his ring filled, perfectly sculpted hands together. 

 

“As you would know, I do not have that many years left-” 

 

“Please do not say that, my King.” A voice immediately calls from behind him, almost like a broken recorder, and Taeyong sighs. “Guard Jung, please. We all know it. Why hide the truth?” 

 

The right hand man stays mum. 

  
  


“Ten, my younger brother, and the next in line to the throne, will ascend as King. The problem is,” Taeyong rubs his temples, eyes closed. “Is that ever since my mother passed on, he is far too cold for anyone’s liking. He has no care for the world. He spends everyday in the tower, hanging from the ceiling like an animal. It took us  _ three _ guards for him to not fling himself out of the window.” 

 

Tears choke him at this, and he pauses, composing himself. He lifts his head, to gauge Johnny’s reaction. Most will have a sympathetic expression, or a “I’m sorry, my King” on their lips, but Johnny has only an expression that encompasses the entirety of the word, ‘intriguement’. Taeyong tries to comfort himself and say it is a good sign, albeit a little disturbed. 

 

“But he is to be King, and he needs to become one. He needs to be taught. And he needs a bodyguard, to protect him. Hence, I will like you to be his bodyguard. You are said, and recommended, by Guard Jung here, to be the best man for the job. Of course, scholars and the whatnot will be there to teach him all the correct manners etc. But his heart,” Taeyong taps his own chest softly. “Needs to be changed. As his mentality.” Taeyong taps his head. 

 

“And I know, no better than a imperial guard for the job. Imperial guards and royals always had a special bond, after all. Now, will you take the job?” Taeyong stretches his palm out, as if physically presenting the offer to Johnny. The man looks back at the King, frowning a little. “I have a choice?” He asks, innocently. Taeyong smiles. “Yes. If you don’t want to-” 

 

“I’ll do it.” Johnny says quickly. “I didn’t mean to ask.” Taeyong smiles again. He is beginning to like him more and more. “Very well. You shall start today. Guard Jung, bring him to the prince, please.” 

 

Jaehyun nods, and strides forward, smiling at his best friend. 

  
  
  


“You could have  _ warned  _ me. This is a huge job, Jaehyun. One wrong move, and I’m dead. And this prince doesn’t sound very easy to me.” Johnny sighs and complains as soon as they step out of the throne room, huffing in annoyance. 

 

Jaehyun shrugs. “What is the palace without surprises?” He says cheekily, and Johnny can only sigh again. 

 

They climb a few hundred steps up the tower, and Johnny is already hating his job.

 

“Here.” Jaehyun passes him an elaborate dagger sheath as they pause before the door. It has a tiger carved on one side, painted in gold and red. Inside, the dagger is hard iron, with again, elaborate designs of another tiger on it. Johnny marvels at the blacksmith’s work. 

 

“Beautiful, right? They are sister tigers. Myth sayings.” Jaehyun says softly as he watches Johnny test its weight, lifting it, twirling it, turning it, passing from hand to hand. Johnny hums in reply.

 

“It’s a dagger only for  _ his _ imperial guard. Specifically instructed by the late queen.” Jaehyun tells him, nodding towards the door. 

 

“Why don’t they just put him on the first floor?” Johnny asks, placing the dagger back into its holder. 

 

“He likes it up here. Tae- the King, just wants him to be happy.” 

 

If Jaehyun is flustered by his slip, he doesn’t show. Johnny eyes him suspiciously, but doesn’t comment. It is not his place to. He too, just wants Jaehyun to be happy. The other thinks he doesn’t see the worry wrinkles on the smooth forehead, or the shedded tears when he comes around his room during breaks. The King is dying, and everyone is hurting. He gets it.

 

“I see.” Johnny replies smoothly. 

 

A pause, as they stare at each other, unspoken words communicated between the two. They had been inseparable since they trained as young teenagers. Now, they are the calmest, most mature and professionally trained, best swordsmen in the country, serving their respective masters. 

 

A lot has changed through the years, but never their bond. Jaehyun gives him a downturned smile, and gently whispers him good luck, before turning his heel, his boots clicking against the marble floor. 

  
  
  


He nods at the guard outside the door, and the guard announces his arrival. There is no wait for approval, the guard just lets him in. He frowns as he enters. He wonders if anyone around this tower does their job properly. 

 

“Prince-” 

 

“I don’t need you here. Get out.” A sharp voice echoes through the room, and Johnny thinks he hears a sigh outside the door, and a ‘not again’. 

 

“I can’t.” Johnny breezily replies. “I’m commanded here. If I go back, I will be beheaded, for going against the King’s rules.” He says so, while his eyes search for the other. 

 

The interior of the room is beyond impressive. Shaped in a dome, there are various platforms and bars, a simple bed, with no exaggeration at all, though thick and presumably warm. At the corner, a desk filled with papers and ink bottles, and next to it, lined along the tall walls, shelves and shelves of colourful books. The floor was coloured in shades of blue, red, green and yellow. All in all, beautiful.

 

“How can you be the best imperial guard in the country, if you can’t even see who you serve?” The voice is arrogant and cutting, but it doesn’t hurt Johnny at all. It only serves to prick him, captivating him, intriguing him. He whips around and he nearly laughs at the sight. 

 

The prince is perched in the shadows, on a wide bar that stretches from one end of the room to the other. Johnny then takes a full look at the ceiling. The dome, was in fact not a cement dome, as he thought it was. It was coloured glass panes, and no surprise here, but in the shape of yet another tiger. He wonders what the affiliation is. 

 

The bars run horizontal, holding the dome up as they criss and cross, dividing the room into twelve sections. A lot of symbolism around here, and Johnny realises he has a lot of work to do, and a lot of layers to uncover. 

  
  
  
  


The prince jumps from where he is, gliding gracefully off the ropes, landing perfectly on the floor. He walks to the window, and sits on the ledge, raising an eyebrow at Johnny. “Didn’t they tell you that if I am close to the window, you must be within an arm’s length?” 

 

Johnny merely replies, “Well, if you could come down from those things,” he points at the bars, “I don’t think you would die so easily.” 

 

Ten laughs, a lilting one. It was like music, but with a melancholic tune. 

 

“You’re interesting.” Ten comments, changing his position, now cross legged, elbow on his thigh as he perches his head on the hand, watching the elder. 

 

His face is sharp, his jawline defined, his eyes big but keen. His hair is the darkest shade of midnight black, parted in the middle. A pair of spectacles hang on his high nose. His lips, though thin, are very beautiful and unique. 

 

Johnny merely smiles, crossing his hands as he leans against the wall at the opposite of the room. “Rare for someone to say so. I take it as a compliment, my prince.” 

 

Ten doesn’t say anything back, merely tilting his head as he continues to assess Johnny, like an animal analysing its prey, deciding whether or not to pounce. Johnny stares back, unafraid. He is sure this prince never did care about royal ground rules. So he stares back, with no hesitance nor resistance. 

 

And that is all they do, on that first day. 

 

* * *

 

Time moves slowly, in the tower. Johnny’s reporting time is at seven, but he realises the prince is always up by six, at his desk, casually sketching some animals with his slender hands. Often, he would pause, eyes far away as his palm holds his sharp chin.

 

The prince thus eats at five, eating a full course of rice and meat, and then doesn’t eat for the rest of the day. Johnny adjusts to the odd timings, arriving at four, instead of seven, watching the younger breathe shallowly on his bed. 

 

Ten is a light sleeper. Many times, he would wake from the mere creak of the door, and they would proceed to stare at each other for an hour, Ten lying on his side, and Johnny leaned against the wall, moonlight on the porcelain face. 

  
  
  


“Do you like to stare at people?” Ten asked softly, once, his voice still husky and laced from sleep. Johnny nearly jumps. He hadn’t expected the question. 

 

“No.” He replied after a moment of silence, clearing his throat. “I stare because I’m supposed to watch you.” 

 

Ten hummed in reply, snuggling deeper into the sheets, and they return to their watching game. 

 

Johnny has memorised Ten’s features by now; the pretty oval face, the high cheekbones that lift his face up; his ears adorned with multiple earrings, the gentle slope of the nose that plummets, and those red lips that are extremely enticing. They are very unique, as if sculpted by the gods themselves. 

 

Johnny likes the Ten of four to five, before the sun rises and the town basks in her heat. He is softer, more approachable; not the scary, cold hearted prince that everyone is so afraid of. He is more human, more warm; but something always switches off, once five approached and he ate his breakfast. Gone was the warmth and simplistic nature; and in its place, a sarcastic icy prince who never fails to send the servants scurrying out in a jiffy, dropping the plates at lightning speed, before speed walking out, cheeks burning under the intense set of narrowing, displeased eyes. 

  
  
  
  


From seven to nine, he sketches and draws, Johnny merely resting his tired body against the wall, occasionally closing his eyes. He asked Ten if he could see the books after a week, and Ten mocks him, saying, “What guard reads books?” but he allows, and Johnny ignores the cutting remark, running his hands on the spines of the them, ignoring Ten’s stares.

 

He was born to a learned family. But what is life without surprises? He picks a random book each day, and reads while Ten draws, shared silence in the room for two hours. 

  
  


From nine to eleven, Ten sets himself on the bars, sometimes sitting with a leg propped up, sometimes playing around as he swings around bar to bar. Johnny just watches in amusement. 

 

During the first few days, he was going through mini episodes of heart attacks as he saw Ten drop, midair, before swinging himself up again, the biceps contracting as they carried Ten’s light weight. After awhile, he assessed that Ten knew the sport more than he did, so he would just continues reading his books, one eye always on the prince. 

  
  


At eleven, the royal goes downstairs for an hour, to have a spontaneous sparring session with the guards. No one dares to refuse, not with those piercing eyes and cold tone. Without his spectacles, Ten looks ten times more intimidating, and he probably knows this, using it to his full advantage.

 

It’s unusual. That he doesn’t seem cold in the room; cutting, sarcastic, witty, yes. But never  _ cold. _ At least, never towards Johnny. 

  
  


Johnny watches from the sides, eyes alert as he sees the guards go full out, nearly screaming and reprimanding them. But then he quickly realises that this is what Ten  _ wants _ . He remembers Jaehyun’s words, and keeps silent. 

 

Ten moves with grace and flow that Johnny can’t quite remember anyone else possessed. He himself, although had many years of experience, never did move with such smoothness. It’s like the sword was a part of Ten; he moved like water, flowing freely and easily. 

 

Ten never attacked first. He circled his opponent. He assessed the other’s weaknesses, before attacking. Johnny recognises this strategy, because it was very similar to Jaehyun’s reserved style; an opposite of his aggressive one. 

 

Ten waits; he can be patient. He would wait for the other to make a ridiculously bold move, and then do a Moulinet, missing the guard’s armour by millimeters, standing tall at the end of the excellent move with flair, a smirk sporting on his lips. Just short of hurting, but it always makes a point. 

 

Johnny enjoys the eleven to twelve slot. It’s a free opportunity, to observe the prince. How a person performs in a sparring match, how they handle the sword, how they plan — are all reflective of their personality and thoughts. Johnny thinks he learnt more about Ten during that one hour, then the other twenty-three. 

  
  


Finally, the day comes when he has a chance to spar with the prince. Everyone was tired, and they were afraid. A guard quickly suggests, averting his eyes as they meet the ice-cold ones for a second. “How about, how about him?” He shakily points to Johnny. 

 

Ten raises his eyebrows and tilts his head. His eyes, under the current of rushing cold waters, were filled with mischief.

 

Johnny would know. After spending much of his days having constant staring matches with Ten, he knows the look. It usually leads to Ten spinning and landing on the bars, leaving a shocked Johnny behind, a laugh flowing in the air, like water in a current. 

  
  


Johnny takes the challenge. He doesn’t want to back down and miss an opportunity to spar with the person he regards as next best to Jaehyun. 

 

He takes up his sword, the one with a tiger. It came as a set, with the dagger and its sheath. 

 

Ten’s eyes are full black and his mouth twists into a smirk as he positions his sword with flair, looking at Johnny with predatory eyes as he crouches a little, circling Johnny, sword flat vertically, covering half his face. 

 

Johnny crosses his left foot behind his right as he carefully mirrors Ten’s steps, his sword in a defense position. 

 

They circle each other for a while, and Johnny knows, Ten is pushing his patience. He falls for the trap and attacks first, cutting the air towards Ten’s right, in which the other nimbly jumps out of the the way. This was easy for him, and Johnny grits his teeth. 

 

They swing their swords — Johnny leaning towards the attack, while Ten leaned towards the defence —cutting the air only, and it’s frustrating Johnny,  _ especially  _ with that teasing smirk on Ten’s face. 

 

Eventually, their swords engage, and are hot on each other, clanking becoming more frequent and scarily rapid. The guards eyes follow the intense match like watching a ping pong match, too absorbed to see the King and his guard approaching in the distance. 

  
  


Ten does another Moulinet, twirling the sword high, near his face, as he whips around, skidding backwards from the force of it, as his sword comes into contact with Johnny’s, throwing both of them back. Ten glares, huffing and panting. Sweat drips down Johnny’s face, and he stares back with equal intensity, though void of the anger in Ten’s. 

 

Ten grits his teeth and attacks first this time, surprisingly; but he miscalculated, and although Johnny managed to deflect it, it was weak, and the sword comes into contact with skin, cutting the blood vessels, releasing the crimson in them. 

 

“Ten, watch-!” The King shouts, mortified, half a second too late, his sentence unfinished as he coughs from the loudness of his voice, the sudden impact on his body. Jaehyun instructs one of the guards to hold him as he follows the King’s pointed finger, rushing towards Johnny. 

 

The other had sprawled onto the ground, wincing slightly from the sting of the wound. “Johnny?” 

 

“It’s fine.” The other quickly replies, already on his feet. His hand is sticky with blood as it poorly tries to stop the flow. Jaehyun takes out a cloth he always has around him for these kind of situations, bandaging it with efficiency and professionalism. The crowd surrounding them, sighs in relief as they see the cloth momentarily stops the bleeding. But they panic again, when it starts to drench red, and Johnny pales. 

 

The doctor is called immediately, and Johnny is escorted to one of the rooms, supported by another one of the spectator guards. 

  
  
  


When the crowd clears, murmurs high in the air, he already sees Taeyong frowning. Ten is nowhere to be found, slinking back into the shadows, and the shelter of his room. No apology, no regret. Simple, clean cut, none-of-my-business. Ten. 

  
  
  


Johnny receives blood transfusion, and gets a few stitches. The cut wasn’t big, but it was deep; credit to the sharp sword. 

 

Taeyong comes visits him the second day he is in the infirmary, and Johnny is surprised at the King’s kindness.

 

“I’m sorry, my King. I was clumsy.” He apologises, head hung low. It was true. He did not expect the move, and although his instincts and years of training helped him, it was no defense against the skilled prince. 

 

Taeyong merely shakes his head. “ _ I  _ should be sorry Ten did so. My brother never thinks much for others,” 

 

Johnny frowns, but says nothing. They exchange a few more polite words, before they depart, Jaehyun throwing him a worried glance. 

 

Johnny lies back on the bed, hating how boring this was. He would rather be at the tower. Speaking of which, he wonders what Ten is doing now. He glances at the clock. It was half past one. From twelve to two, Ten loved to go horse riding. Taeyong even had a special field made just for his brother, so that there was enough terrain for the free spirited boy. 

 

He glances at the nurse. She was half asleep, the blazing sun making the humid weather perfect for a drowsy afternoon. He cautiously gets up, and footsteps soft on the wooden boards, he leaves the infirmary, and successfully slips out. He didn’t train for  _ nothing _ , after all. 

  
  
  


He arrives at the terrain, his arm in the bandage. He goes to the horse stables, and a little panic slips into his heart as he sees Ten’s horse still in her stable, looking gloomy. She is a pure white, and a beautiful, majestic creature. Johnny fell in love with her the moment he met her. 

 

He strokes her mane and her silky neck with his uninjured hand, the horse neighing and brightening in response. He smiles, and offers her a sugar cube he snuck out from the pantry on the way. 

  
  


“Fancy seeing you here, bodyguard.” A smooth voice, like porcelain, calls from behind him, and he turns. The prince has his hands in his pockets, his eyebrows furrowed, and despite the light tone, he looked anything but light and carefree, as he usually was. Or maybe, this is what he  _ is  _ usually like. Guarded, burdened, eyes dark. 

 

Johnny watches him walk closer, slender fingers running through his horse’s mane, fingers accidentally brushing over Johnny’s. The guard pulls his hand away. 

 

“You don’t look well.” Johnny comments lamely, as he watches the other rub the horse’s ears, a small smile painting his face, as the horse neighs and leans into the touch. 

 

“Could say so yourself.” He nods at the bandage. “Is it healing well?” 

 

Johnny turns his arm around, shrugging. “The doctor says I can go back to work after another day.” 

 

“Strange that my brother didn’t just send you away.” Ten remarks, before opening the stable door, using the brush to comb the horse’s hair. Johnny doesn’t know why, but he feels his throat close up at those words. 

 

“Does he send many guards away?” He casually asks, as he watches Ten meticulously comb through the hair. It is no wonder the horse’s hair is so smooth and silky. 

 

“Does it matter?” Ten replies with ease, looking up, eyes staring straight into Johnny’s. Johnny averts his eyes. He now knows why everyone does so. Never, in their staring contests, did Ten looked at him with that intensity. That guarded look. The walls built high, and Johnny is searching for their end. 

 

His eyes are far too piercing and sharp for comfort; they could see through a soul. If Ten asked, Johnny would have spilled all his secrets then and there. It was extremely uncomfortable. It was  _ exposing _ . 

 

Johnny was tall, and looked up to by all his colleagues and juniors. But under Ten’s gaze, he feels like the rookie he was ten years back, at the mercy of his seniors, small and insignificant. It makes his stomach churn.

  
  


“You can’t ride with your arm injured, can you?” Ten asks as he leads the horse out, Johnny walking beside him.    
  
“No.” 

 

“Then why are you here?” Ten pauses in his footsteps, turning to face him. Although he is looking up, given his shorter height, Johnny feels smaller than ever, like he is being interrogated by his mother. 

  
“I….I’ll just watch you. I’m your bodyguard after all.” He shifts from left to right, uneasy. He himself, not so sure why he is here. 

 

“A bodyguard who can’t protect me because he is injured.” Ten says, malice dripping over his words, as he hoists himself onto the majestic beast. “See if you can still watch me, once I disappear in the forest. You know how dense it is. I suggest you go back and rest,  _ guard _ .” His words don’t miss their cutting edge. 

 

And with that, and a short shout, he gallops. Sure enough, within minutes, he crosses the vast field, disappearing into the mass of green. 

  
Johnny sighs, turning away, returning to the small room, with the sleeping nurse. He doesn’t know why he is still  _ trying. _


	2. 2. 3378 WHEN THE WALLS COME DOWN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for the sweet comments!!!! i'm touched б（＞ε＜）∂ 
> 
>  
> 
> social media:  
> [tumblr](https://tenecity.tumblr.com/)  
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/tenecty)  
> [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me)

**2\. 3378 WHEN THE WALLS COME DOWN**

 

True to his word, Johnny is back at the tower within two days, only the doctor insists that he catch up on sleep (it helps in the healing process), so Johnny reports at 7am. Ten is already sitting at his desk as per usual, sketching once again. 

 

They don’t speak much, though Johnny knows Ten can feel his presence; his back is tensed a little, and his sketches a little more hazy. It’s not that they know each other well; it’s just that Johnny has been trained to watch people like observing animals; picking up small details and the like are all part of the job as a royal guard. It helps you to detect possible dangers. 

 

Johnny shifts his eyes to take a look at the room he had missed the past two days. Not much has changed, besides the fact that the bed doesn’t looked slept in, the window is that is usually opened is closed and  _ sealed, _ and the ropes hang limply from the ceilings. 

 

“Did you try to jump out?” Johnny asked as he runs his fingers over the sealed window. He tries pushing it open, but it is very much tightly sealed as it doesn’t move and inch. 

 

“Why else do you think the window is sealed off?” Ten replies smoothly. His answers are never straight forward. Johnny is getting used to it, honestly. He wonders if the prince has ever  _ been  _ straight with anyone. 

 

Johnny cautiously walks over to Ten’s desk. Something is off, and he can feel it, even though he has only been with the prince for a month. Guards tend to pick up things like that; or do they?

 

“Why did you do that?” Johnny asked as he leans against the wall next to the desk, watching Ten’s eyebrows furrow in concentration. His glasses are slipping off his nose; the orange light shining from the lamp overhead throws a glow onto the stormy face. The sketch isn’t even much of a sketch, or maybe Johnny just doesn’t have an eye for these artsy things; it’s just lines, some curves, but not much shape or identity to it. 

 

“Why does it matter?” Ten replies flatly. His grip on the pencil tightened. No more lines are drawn. The prince’s breathing becomes ragged, and it’s obvious he is putting in a lot of effort to control it. 

 

“Why do you always have to do this to yourself?” Johnny asks, absentmindedly. 

 

“Why do you ask so many questions?” Ten spits back, dropping the pencil completely now, his fingers gripping hard at the edge of the table. 

 

Johnny is intrigued. The change of atmosphere, from the usual quiet calm, is now a rocky ocean, threatening to overturn a boat, but Johnny persists. He quite likes danger. Part of the reason he was willing to become a guard. 

 

He leans in, just inches away from Ten. “Why do you always have to act like you hate everyone when you don’t?” 

 

“You don’t know me. I really do hate anyone. And I hate  _ you _ especially, for trying so hard.” Ten hisses, recoiling. 

 

“Don’t you hate me for hurting you?” Ten asks, eyes trained on the bandaged wound, his glare setting fire onto Johnny’s flesh. 

 

“Why would I?” Johnny is actually astonished and taken aback. Why would he? It was an accident. Accidents happen all the time.

 

“Lots of people-” Ten’s words are cut short, as he stumbles backwards, hitting the wall, his intakes of breaths becoming gasps, choking.    
  


“Prince! Prince.” Johnny calls following Ten, but halts in his footsteps as Ten raises a hand shakily. “Don’t come closer. Please.” He is begging Johnny, but the bodyguard refuses to listen. He is stubborn in that way; he doesn’t just back down because someone tells him to. It’s a double-edged sword. It earns him the favour of many royals as it means he can protect them, no fear running through his blood. 

 

But here, it hurts more than it should, because the next thing he knows, he is staring into wild, frightened eyes, hands tightened around his neck, and his oxygen levels are plummeting, his heart rate increasing, and his shouts turning weaker as the pressure on his windpipe increases. 

 

The next few minutes pass like a blur. Someone had entered the room and thrown the prince off him. Johnny is pulled back and supported by some guard, who is waving his hands before Johnny’s face, making him even dizzier. He takes deep breaths in an effort to calm down his heart, but it does little to help him. He can feel the blood draining from his face, and his hands becoming cold. 

 

Minutes later, however, he feels better as someone had decided to, very wisely, unseal the window and let fresh air in, allowing him to breathe a little easier. He rubs his neck and winces as he touches are particular tender spot. Chaos is everywhere, guards, a doctor, everyone has entered the room; shouts. 

 

But his eyes are undistracted and they look for one person, and one person alone. A person who is coiled in a corner, eyes lost as he watches the frenzy, recoiling even further into his shell as guards try to coax him out. With those loud, rough voices of theirs, did they really think Ten was going to listen to them? 

 

He tries and successfully locks eyes with the prince. He doesn’t know how his eyes look, but he hopes they exude calmness amidst the chaos. The prince’s eyes are lost and hollow, wild and frightening, but Johnny knows that behind every fierce tiger, is a scared cub who is merely trying to protect itself. 

 

He stands up, ignoring the ‘sir’s that call from around him. His head still throbs and it spins but he tries to walk straight, and as calmly as possible. He whispers an instruction to one of his trusted guards, and everyone, albeit hesitant, clears the room. He has the most authority around here, besides the dazed prince, so it is as it is. 

 

The silence that follows is comforting and Johnny can see Ten visibly relax, although his knees are still drawn to his chest, half his face hidden behind them, breathing still stuttering, fingers still trembling.  

  
  
  


“Prince.” He softly calls to the curled up boy. He tries to ignore the palpitating heartbeats. His mind has already categorised Ten as a threat, and his guard trainings are causing his body to itch to run away or attack. But he controls these temptations and chooses to speak softly. 

 

‘Prince’ doesn’t seem to be working here, the boy still watching him. He can see the tear streaks and little hiccups shaking the shoulders, the fingers clenching tightly. 

 

He ignores all protocol and rules, and hopes against hope, that no one will hear this. 

 

“Ten.” He whispers, fingers carefully untying the knot, Ten’s fingers unclenching at the touch. Tears start to flow again, and Johnny’s heart breaks just a little, a hairline crack, as he wraps an arm around the smaller boy, letting the tears soak his skin, trying hard to transfer whatever grief that plagues the prince, to himself. 

  
  


He carries the exhausted boy to the soft bed, placing him under the covers. Adjusting the blankets, he can feel Ten’s gaze on him, though not hot and burning as usual. What really burns, is when cold fingers trace the bruises on his neck and he freezes, fingers dropping the blankets unceremoniously. Ten sighs and drops his hand as well, curling into the bed. 

 

Johnny sits in his chair, now drawn nearer to the bed, watching the younger as he runs his fingers through the locks of hair that have knotted themselves. It is against the rules for anyone outside royal blood to touch the royals themselves, but no one is here, and Ten will definitely not report on him. Or at least, it is incredibly unlikely, with the boy still shaking slightly, though relaxing into Johnny’s repetitive motions. 

 

Ten’s features have softened very much, and he looks vulnerable in the soft morning light rays. Johnny brushes his thumb over the forehead, trailing down as he wipes the leftover tears on the smooth cheeks. He pretends to not see Ten’s eyes raking his face. 

  
  


“You don’t hate me.” Ten whispers when Johnny returns to brush the prince’s hair. 

 

“No, I don’t.” Johnny replies, hating how his voice was so constricted. 

 

“Why? I hurt you twice.” Ten says matter-of-factly, his lips pursed as his face spells confusion. 

 

Johnny shrugs. 

 

He doesn’t know why either. 

  
  
  
  
  


He can hear the ruckus occurring outside and is quick and nimble enough to remove his hands and stand up, before Jaehyun bursts in, Taeyong stumbling after. 

 

“Ten.” The King says in a solemn tone, and although he can’t hear it, Johnny can hear the sigh sounding from the prince. The prince straightens up, and Johnny can almost literally see him piece together the icy-cold facade that was broken previously. 

 

“What?” He hisses back, staring straight at the King. 

 

“I told you to behave. He is the  _ best _ one of the lot, Prince Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul.” Taeyong says back, more ice than warmth, and Johnny tries not to show the rising heat in his chest. 

 

“And I told you to just throw me out if you aren’t willing to deal with me. I don’t understand  _ why  _ you still give me a guard. Mum’s dead. You don’t have to follow her wishes. She wouldn’t know.” Ten spits back in response. 

 

Taeyong rubs his temples, glaring at the younger. “I would have, if not for the fact that I actually respect  _ your _ mother, and I actually have the responsibility as a King and a brother, to help you. Please, Ten.” 

 

“Don’t try to play victim and the good guy here,  _ King. _ ” Ten stresses, and Johnny can’t read between the lines. He doesn’t quite understand the tension between the two, but as they always say, watch and listen, and you will understand. 

 

“Ten.” Taeyong nearly barks, shooting daggers at the younger. His eyes shift to Johnny who is looking right back at him, though guarded and seemingly expressionless. “Guard Seo, I suggest you go see the doctor. I’m so sorry. My  _ brother, _ ” He glares at Ten, “Doesn’t quite think for others. I am so sorry. I will have Jaehyun change-” 

 

Johnny clears his throat. “I don’t think that will be necessary, my King. I will visit the infirmary in my own time, thank you for your consideration,” He bows, and although he looks at his feet, he can feel the fury and confusion from everyone. 

 

“Well, if so, then-” The King’s previous vicious behaviour fades, and he returns to becoming the fragile King he is, leaning on Jaehyun for support. Johnny nearly snickers as he sees Ten rolls his eyes, flopping back onto his bed. 

 

They exchange greetings, and the King and his guards leave the room, leaving him and Ten alone. 

  
  
  
  


Ten, however, doesn’t stay in bed. Instead he goes to an end of the room with the wooden door. Johnny has never seen anyone open that door, and doesn’t know what is behind it. A guard never asks questions; neither should a guard prod and snoop around. He had been taught this way. But it doesn’t stop his curiosity, as he walks after Ten, following him through the wooden door. 

  
  


It opens up to a little balcony area, and Johnny is awed by the sight. 

 

They are high up enough to see most of the low lying town, bustling with their business, beyond the castle walls. The balcony overflows with flora, creepers tangling themselves along the ledges and up the walls, pots everywhere with flowers of every colour. The place is so messy, and yet at the same time organised, to a person who knows this place like the back of his hand. Ten weaves through the mess, and picks out something, knowing what plant is where exactly. 

 

Johnny is mistaken, however, because Ten doesn’t take a plant or herb, he takes out a bottle. He tells Johnny that it is 跌打酒 and Johnny just looks at him in confusion, so Ten rolls his eyes and just tells him to sit in his chair and not make noise. 

 

Ten pours out some of the liquid onto the cotton wool, before coming over to Johnny, leaning slightly as he presses the cotton wool onto the bruises, Johnny wincing as pain travels down his spine. Ten tells his to bear with it, and think about something else. 

 

Ten continues to swipe the cotton wool, while Johnny tries to keep his eyes off the exposed chest as Ten’s translucent and loose shirt no longer sticks to his skin, the well sculpted body on full display as Ten leans down far enough to tend to the neck. Johnny breathes out, closing his eyes. He absolutely _ hates _ this. 

 

Once he is done with the treatment, Ten throws the cotton wool away, and puts the bottle out in the garden, snuggling back into his bed, eyes watching Johnny as Johnny watches him. His grip is hard on Johnny’s wrist as he forces the guard to slip his fingers back into Ten’s hair, the younger sighing contentedly, reminding Johnny of a young, spoiled, but endearing child. 

A child like his sister. His fingers tighten around the locks ever so slightly, as he pushes the thought away, with much effort, heart and throat tightening. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


“How old are you?” Johnny asks as Ten’s fingers find amusement in tracing Johnny’s arm, specifically stroking a specific, old scar on his arm.

 

“Eighteen.” Ten says absentmindedly and Johnny raises his eyebrows. He never knew the age gap between the King and his brother were so large. 

  
  


“How did you get this scar?” Ten asks, pointing at the jagged line that sits on the otherwise untainted skin. 

 

Johnny sighs, but chooses to tell the story he doesn’t tell many. Something about the alcohol in the medication maybe, but also perhaps, with Ten looking so soft and pliant, he is willing to share anything. He says the story mechanically, trying to void it of emotion. He doesn’t want to  _ cry _ . Real guards don’t cry, that’s what he’s been told. 

 

“When I was fourteen, bandits came to my house. They were from the rebel forces. The forces that hate the scholars, campaigning for communism and the burning books. My father was a scholar, that used to work in the palace courts and his books were  _ everywhere _ . So, we were an easy target, a  _ confirmed _ target. My father was out in another country that fateful day. 

 

“My mother knew swordsmanship, but she was weak at that time. She couldn’t protect herself, or any of us. So I just took the dagger and fought the bandits. No one was at home, and I never properly trained. I only watched my mother. So of course, I would get a scar.” Johnny tries to end lightly, and hopes to stop here. He hates the ending of the story, so he never told anyone, except for Jaehyun, of course, a training royal guard then, who had picked him off the streets. 

 

But Ten is tactless, Johnny thinks he doesn’t really  _ care _ . 

 

“Then what happened?” Ten asks, and those eyes could make anyone spill the truth, so Johnny can hardly stop the words that flowed from his mouth. He regrets it immediately, feeling his heart clench. 

 

“She died. So did my sister, and our maid. Only I escaped. My father died a year after, of grief.” The words are short and halting. 

  
  


One fateful night, one fateful rebellion, one political turmoil, didn’t just turn the country into a mess, it turned  _ his _ life into a mess of tangles, turning inside out. It is exactly why he decided to follow Jaehyun. He was very grateful towards the previous king; he had successfully and very efficiently wiped out the rebel forces, bringing back peace and stability to the country in just seven years. 

 

At what cost, Johnny doesn’t know. But he does know, that he wanted to give back, an expression of gratitude, so he joined the forces. Although his hands were soft when he arrived at the barracks, he trained his hands meant for calligraphy and the pages of books, to become callous and rough enough to handle a sword. He learnt the hard way, of not having the capability and capacity to protect yourself, and the people around you.

  
  


Ten doesn’t say sorry, Johnny didn’t expect him to anyways. But he can feel the touches get softer with each graze of the fingerpads on his skin, goosebumps lining their way. Maybe this is how Ten expresses his sorry.

  
  
  


“Is this from her?” Ten asks as he props himself up, touching the ring on Johnny’s neck, fingers turning the ring, eyes gleaming as they reflect the glinting rays of light that hit the metal ring. If anyone else had touched it, Johnny would have frowned and pulled back. But it’s just Ten, so he lets the boy play with it. 

 

It’s a simple necklace that hangs around the guard’s neck; clumsy hands stringing the ring through a black thread, slipping it on Johnny’s neck; blood, burning books and flesh, seeping through his skin. Johnny can feel his throat tighten again, and he breathes out a yes in response to Ten’s question.

  
  
  


“Prince.” Johnny whispers, and the eyes travel from the ring to lock with Johnny’s dark brown orbs, and he can hear his breath hitch. 

 

“Just call me Ten.” Ten says, finger slipping off the ring, walking to the desk to grab a pencil and his sketchbook. 

 

“Can I ask you a question?” 

 

Ten looks at him incredulously and laughs a little, white teeth on display. “Go ahead, guard.” 

  
  


“Why did you strangle me?” 

  
  
  
  
  
  


The laughing smile drops and Ten doesn’t say anything as the pencil moves along the paper. 

 

“Ten.” 

 

“It started happening when my mother died. Just things I sometimes see. Heart rate increases. I feel suffocated. I know how to protect myself, and the people around me. You should have just backed off, when I told you to.” Ten replies, monotone as he glances at Johnny, before proceeding to add a few lines to his drawing. He too, tries to detach emotion from reality. Maybe that is how they cope. Maybe that is his defense mechanism.

  
  
  
  


“You’re not Chinese or Korean.” Johnny points out, as he recalls when the King said the prince’s full name. It is too hard to repeat. 

 

“No. I’m Thai, but from Chinese descent. I was adopted by the royal family as a baby. Was an exchange gift.” Ten chuckles softly under his breath, but Johnny can’t really tell what’s so  _ funny.  _

 

“So that’s why your brother and you have such a huge age gap?” Johnny asks, puzzle pieces finally coming together. 

 

“Yes. He is not my brother. He is just….my mother’s son. We were never close. He hates me, as much as I hate him.” Ten says nonchalantly, as if it is completely normal, looking up again. This time however, he sees the sour look on Johnny’s face and smiles a little at it, as if reassuring Johnny. Johnny decides that he likes it when Ten smiles. He looks way more friendlier. 

 

“You should smile more.” Johnny wishes he has a brain to mouth filter. That was  _ not  _ supposed to be said out loud. 

 

Ten merely shrugs, looking back at his drawing, tongue sticking out in concentration. Johnny lets him finish it, watching the younger as the day gets hotter. 

 

It is a couple of minutes later, before the tongue is put back in place, and Ten visibly relaxes. He holds up his sketchbook next to Johnny and smiles satisfactory. 

 

Johnny raises his eyebrows, and tries to grab it, but instead, plunges into the mattress as Ten gives that same, angelic laugh, running away. 

 

They chase each other like this, Johnny laughing as he holds his sides, Ten’s eyes in the shapes of crescents. 

  
It is the first time, Johnny realises, that Ten has held an actual conversation with him. And the first time, he has heard Ten’s laughter — like music floating in the air, the twinkling of golden chimes, or the softening crashing waves on golden shores — in a long, long while. 


	3. 3. 1798 THE TIGER’S MYTH

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short, but my one of my favourite chapters ・+(*゜∀゜*)+・
> 
>  
> 
> social media:  
> [tumblr](https://tenecity.tumblr.com/)  
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/tenecty)  
> [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me)

_**3\. 1798 THE TIGER’S MYTH** _

 

 

  
It is as if the walls between them have broken down, but still, Johnny is trying to find the reach the ends of it. Just as he peels off one layer, he finds another, and another, and another, and it is endless. 

 

At least Ten no longer pushes him away, holding friendly, teasing conversation with him. At least now, Ten would openly have a breakdown, and cry into Johnny’s shirt, instead of curling himself in the corner, increasing his panic. At least now, Ten smiles more often, that even the guards surrounding the tower are a little spooked by the change, even congratulating Johnny on his progress. 

 

But there is still so much to this boy that he doesn’t know about, and Johnny just wants to know everything. He wants to know Ten inside out, just like how Ten knows his garden inside out. That’s what guards do, right? 

 

It seems, however, that he will never, truly know the boy. Ten is full of surprises, and here comes one, hurtling down on Johnny without much notice, and to say he jumped in surprise, taken aback, is an understatement. 

  
  
  


It is hunting season, and the entire palace is in frenzy. The royals  _ love _ hunting season, especially The Great Hunt that occurs every winter. A tradition the past King started, and was continued on, by Taeyong.

  
  


“And may The Great Hunt, begin!” The Chief of Defense shouts, his voice travelling through the yard, the royals, princesses and princes alike, scattering through the arena. Although sick, even the King himself, decided to ride out on his horse, Jaehyun, of course, by his side. 

 

Their camp was stationed in a no man’s land between two valleys, forests flanking either sides of the camp, that was heavily guarded. The mountains were treacherous and high, and the area is known for its wild beasts. The royals are bloodthirsty creatures; so a battle with the wild animals is a staple activity for them.

 

Ten, however, Johnny quickly realises, has no taste for such events. He wrinkles his nose in disgust as he hears a cry of victory from a far, and looks pained as he sees the beheaded animals set before his very pleased brother. 

 

“Why don’t you like it?” Johnny asks on the second day as they watch the royals hike up the mountains and through the thorny paths. They remain very much in the campsite, playing a few games of archery and chest, Ten even sparring with a couple of the guards, under Johnny’s watchful eye. 

 

“Animals are lives too.” Ten simply says, as he walks towards a couple of guards, who are already bowing towards him, affectionate smiles on their faces. Ten can either be completely close off, or hit it so well with people, Johnny is confused by the duality. 

  
  


It is night, when Ten suddenly sits up from his bed, scaring Johnny a little by the abrupt behaviour. 

 

“What day is it today?” He asks, walking outside as he peers at the mountains. 

 

“The fifteenth day of the month.” Johnny replies. There are still some royal troops hunting, torches lighting up patches of the terrain. Some seem to have a taste for the nocturnal creatures, so the King allows for the 24 hour hunt. 

  
  


Ten goes back into the tent and dresses into warmer clothes, though specifically choosing black and white colours, colours that would camouflage him in the wilderness. He drags Johnny along as they go to the stables, quietly untying his horse, and having Johnny untie his too. 

 

They gallop south, where it is barren land, Johnny never questioning and completely trusting Ten as they turn and follow the river upstream, riding through the forest, following the waters that flow the opposite way. 

 

The winter winds are bitter and cold, and Johnny’s face is flushed as they speed upwards, near the mountains. It is then, does he recognise the terrain. 

 

“Prince, I don’t-” 

 

Ten raises his hand as he drops onto the soft snow, and Johnny follows, walking up to him, “Prince, do you have _ any _ idea-” His hushed whisper is cut off, as Ten places a hand on his chest, calming him down. Though it does the very opposite, and Johnny hopes the thick clothing can mask the palpitating heart. 

 

“I know where I am. Don’t follow so closely. Tie the horses to that tree,” Ten points. “And wait for me there.” 

 

Johnny grabs Ten’s wrist, gripping it hard and pulling the prince back. “ _ Ten _ , that’s a tiger’s  _ den _ .” He hisses, looking straight into Ten’s eyes, panic filling him. Is Ten planning this suicide mission on purpose? 

 

Ten merely rolls his eyes, and rips his wrist out of Johnny’s grasp. “I know. I’ve been here a million times, Johnny. Trust me.” Johnny stares uneasily at him, and for the first time, fear grips his heart. 

  
  


“Don’t worry about it. They are just tigers. Cats. They are tame, I promise.” Ten says gentler this time, before giving him an assuring smile, threading towards the den with ease and confidence, grace and smoothness. As if that would make Johnny feel any better.

 

Johnny reluctantly ties the horses to the tree, and waits next to them, biting his lips as each second ticks by. It seems like hours, before he hears Ten’s lilting laugh echo, and he rushes from the shade of the trees, only to gasp at the sight. 

  
  


Two tigers flank Ten, and they are both rubbing their faces into Ten’s reassuring hands, as he smooths their fur. They are pure white, mountain tigers, large in size, and yet with Ten, they didn’t look half as scary as they are often described to be. 

 

The tigers halt in their footsteps as their eyes turn from Ten to Johnny, and he swears he sees them snarl at him. Johnny halts in his footsteps, and follows what most books say, keeping eye contact with them as he crouches down low, placing his hands up in surrender, before placing them on the white snow.

  
  


The tigers have the same arrogant aura as Ten does, turning their attention back to a laughing Ten, purring at their happy master. Ten walks closer and Johnny wants to tell him to stop; those two tigers certainly do  _ not  _ like him. 

 

“Relax, Johnny. Say hi to Landa and Sae.” Ten says as he rubs the tigers’ ears, the two tigers leaning into the touch, purring deep from their chest, a rich, pure one. 

 

They lie at Ten’s feet as they near the trees, though far enough, away from the two horses, to avoid creating any surprise or tension between the two species, that could lead to chaos. The tigers snuggle at Ten’s feet as Johnny and him sit on the cold, frozen floor, Johnny sits awkwardly, still trying to get used to the idea of having such traditionally dangerous animals, so near him.

 

He watches Ten coo at the two tigers, speaking in Chinese or Thai, he doesn’t really know. It’s beautiful to hear Ten speak those languages, like water flowing from his mouth. So easy, so at home, so  _ Ten _ .

 

“How do you know them?” Johnny asks, as Ten’s fingers are buried in the tigers’ thick fur. 

 

“My mother. And from her mother, and back and back. The King never liked animals, he shared the previous King’s taste for hunting. My mother always fought with the King about the hunting season. 

 

“These two were cubs that she gave to me. Or more like the tiger she was bonded too, gave her these two cubs, and she gave them to me. My mother didn’t have a daughter, and since Taeyong doesn’t like animals, she gave them to me. I grew up with them.” Ten says with a soft smile, laughing as one of the tigers roll on their back, enjoying Ten’s running hands through her fur. 

 

Johnny notices how much Ten has softened, and his heart lurches at the sight of Ten being so comfortable, here amongst these large cats. The pureness and innocent nature, of human connecting with animal, living so peacefully, interacting so familiarly, as it should be, instead of chasing each other in a thirst for blood and the adrenaline rush for sport. 

  
  


“You must have been very close to your mother.” He says, and he regrets it immediately. Ten’s expression hardens, and the tigers become more alert, sensing the change, sitting properly, head held high. He himself, tenses at the change. 

  
  


“Yes. She was very precious to me.” The prince whispers as he strokes the cats, who purr as they try to lick his tears away. He chuckles amidst the sorrow in his heart, softly comforting the tigers. 

 

Ten looks up and his eyes lock with Johnny’s. He looks so beautiful, pale, but healthy skin against the white background; clad in black and white, tigers by his side; he looked like an exotic creature, so powerful and overwhelming, and yet so vulnerable. Ten has always been an enticing creature, and Johnny finally figures why Ten always moved with such smoothness and gracefulness. He  _ learnt _ it, from these exotic creatures. 

  
  


Ten’s fingers brush against Johnny’s heart shaped lips, and pulling Johnny out of his thoughts. “Were you that scared?” Ten asks as he swipes the torn flesh of the lips again, before dropping his hand, eyebrows raised. 

 

“What do you expect me to be? Excited that these two felines might just kill me?” Johnny retorts, face flaming. He blames it on the biting cold. The two tigers purr maliciously at him, and Johnny sticks his tongue out in retaliation. Ten laughs at the childishness as he gets up, brushing the snow off his coat. 

 

“You will have to learn to live with them, if you want to be my guard.” Ten says breezily, as he gives the tigers’ fur one last ruffle, before sending them back to the cave. 

  
  
  
  


Snowflakes start falling as they watch the two majestic creatures stride back into their home, Ten watching them with a proud, mother-like smile. 

 

Johnny watches Ten, observing how the lips pull back as they show hints of the white teeth, and maybe it is something about the dropping flakes, the serenity of their surroundings, the beautiful tigers, and his increasing heart rates, but his eyes are drawn to those lips that have intrigued him since day one, and he can hardly tear his eyes away, when Ten turns towards him. 

 

He is caught in the act, and his face flushes again. He turns away, mouth already open to spill a thousand excuses, but Ten’s lilting laughter cuts him off, as he presses his lips against the chilled cheek. Johnny pulls away, a spluttering mess, as he watches Ten confidently stride off to untie his horses. 

 

He has a lot to think about that night. 


	4. 4. 3886 THEY LIE IN WAIT

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> once again, thankyou for the nice comments!! 
> 
> hmu at:   
> [tumblr](https://tenecity.tumblr.com/)  
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/tenecty)  
> [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me)

_**4\. 3886 THEY LIE IN WAIT** _

 

 

Johnny finally starts to understand a little more of Ten. Why he draws tigers, why he has a tiger on his roof, why he often stares into the distance, in the direction of the southern mountains. Ten had some form of withdrawal symptoms after coming back from the hunt, mumbling something about white tigers. He hardly ate; Johnny had to force him to eat. Johnny finally understands why most of Ten’s sketches were never finished; it was too hard to, especially when those sketches look almost real. 

 

Johnny also starts to comprehend the underlying rushing currents of the palace. Why Ten never steps foot into the throne room. Why he doesn’t attend any court meetings, or any events hosted for the royals. 

 

Ten is considered an  _ outsider _ , someone not of royal descent nor blood; a  _ charity.  _ Johnny finally understands the looks some princesses or cousins of the royal would cast on the tower. The look of disgust. Or the look of pity. Either way, Johnny would like to give them a slap across the face, but he is only a guard, so he keeps his hands to himself, and his mouth shut. 

 

He starts to scratch the surface of royal politics, something he was never involved in previously, because he was a mere guard or soldier on the field. Politics was the least of his concern, when people were dying right in front of him. But then, he realises that it is  _ because _ of politics, that these people are dying. It is like a chain reaction,  _ chunwangchihan,  _  one thing is always the result of another. 

 

The glares sent from the King to Ten were no longer unusual. Whenever the King says that Ten never thinks for others, Johnny can understand why he said so. As a prince, who is second in line to the throne, Ten should step up and be more involved, help out and carry the burden of royal responsibilities. All the younger does, is to do as he pleases, flinging himself out of the window, causing trouble everywhere. To the King, who has so many things to think of, the fact that his brother shows no support for him, must be infuriating and seemingly selfish. 

 

Johnny, however, sees the underlying problem. Ten has problems within his own heart, and that causes the problems and havoc on the outside; an outward manifestation of the problems on the inside.  _ Chunwangchihan,  _ one thing is always the result of another. 

 

He tries to coax Ten to speak of the burdens he hides in his heavy heart: the grief from his mother’s death, the insecurity, the anxiety, the depression, the longing to be with the tigers, the longing for a mother who loved and treasured him, caring for him and treating him equally, no matter if he was of royal blood or not. But Ten refuses to speak, only staring, not moving, not saying anything. Johnny’s heart is getting heavy, his resolve dissolving into foam. 

  
  


That is, until he got the most brilliant idea. He managed to coax the Head Chief to approve of him bringing Ten out of the palace walls. The forlorn boy frowns so hard, Johnny laughs at the sour expression as he smooths the wrinkles. Ten wears a black cloak that hides his face, while Johnny dresses as a normal plebeian would do: cotton shirt, brown pants, worn out shoes. 

 

He brings Ten to see life outside the palace: the colourful streets filled with waving cloths and calling hawkers; watching physicians weigh out the different herbs, citizens haggling over prices, children trying to convince them to buy some sweets. Ten is too kind, spending all his money on the children, smiling as he strokes their face and thanks them softly. 

 

Outside of the bustling city near the palace, they go to the outskirts, and he can hear Ten’s breath hitch and see Ten’s face draw tightly as he sees beggars on the streets, old and young, dirty gutters and homes that were barely a zinc metal sheet and a wooden platform. The hollow look and gaunt cheeks; hopelessness hangs heavy in the air. Ten couldn’t take it, taking off his outerwear of exotic fur, and wanting to give it to a particularly young child as she begs on the uneven path. 

 

Johnny stops him and Ten scowls, but as Johnny steers him away, he points out the lurking, greedy adults at the corner, who are sure to steal the spoils later, using the child for specific begging purposes. 

 

The place is manifested with human trafficking, child kidnapping; not to mention the red light district with girls as young as twelve, out on the streets, selling their bodies, being used by the adults for monetary gain. There is no honour, and you can see the slipping hope in their eyes. It’s a cycle of tragedy and suffering; a nightmare with no end. 

 

Ten shivers at the sight, and pleads to go back. Johnny relents, but stops at a particular shop, leaving two other undercover guards to take care of Ten. He purchases something, and quickly comes out, relieved that Ten was still at his usual spot, kicking some fallen pebbles on the streets. His sharp eyes catch something in the corner, and he turns, only to see two men looking away, pretending not to scare. Johnny  _ knows _ , Ten is a pretty gem, so he pulls the other away quickly, and they speed-walk back to the tower, bile on Johnny’s tongue. 

  
  
  


They return to the tower and Ten sobs into the pillow, Johnny rubbing his back as he vomits into a bowl. 

 

“It’s too much.” Ten murmurs as he rests his head on Johnny’s chest. 

 

“Why is life so unfair? How can we have so much, and they, so little?” He whispers, looking at Johnny. Red rimmed eyes, tears spilling from the corners, nose running, he looked anything but beautiful. Yet, those puppy, glistening eyes, and innocent face, has Johnny swallowing as he averts his eyes. 

  
  


“This is why, my prince. You have the power. You can use it. You have to.” Ten just sighs, and buries his face into Johnny’s neck, not entirely convinced, but Johnny knows that at least, he has planted a seed. 

  
  
  


“Hey,” Johnny nudges the younger. “I bought you something.” 

 

He goes to the basket he carried back, and opens it. 

 

Two small kittens, one, a ginger, and the other, white with black stripes. They meow as they stare at Johnny with their big eyes, and Ten is already pushing him aside, cooing at them. Johnny smiles as he watches Ten press his wet cheeks against their fur, the kittens angrily and exasperatingly trying to push him away, prancing away as they make themselves comfortable in the room. Johnny’s glad he picked the right ones; they match Ten’s energy and wavelength with that cheeky and arrogant character of theirs. 

 

Ten’s dark eyes catch his, and he gives him a blinding smile. He doesn’t say thank you, but perhaps the invitation for Johnny to stay for the night, is Ten’s way of showing his gratitude.

  
  
  


The next few days, another wave of astonishing change overwhelms Ten. He wakes up early, not to sketch but to read. He invites some trusted scholars of his mother, to teach him the basic rules of the royals, to understand how policies are made and implemented, to debate about the underlying problems. 

  
  


Johnny leans against the wall as he skims through one of his picked books, the kittens nestled in the bed, Ten in the corner furiously writing, or having a heated debate with one of the scholars, and he feels a sense of victory wash over him. 

 

When he reports this to the King, Taeyong nods in approval, complimenting him, saying “I knew you could change him.” He only smiles shyly in response. “There is still more to be done,” he replies. 

  
  
  


Finally, comes the day they have all been waiting for. Well, at least, he, the King, and Jaehyun had been waiting for. The flower to finally bloom. 

 

For the first time, Ten is in full royal robes, sitting in his rightful seat, on the right hand of the King. A seat once empty, was now filled, and the murmurs that rose amongst the royals and officials was, of course, expected. 

  
  


Ten did not intervene at first. He told Johnny that it is not right for an outsider to just come in and point out all the problems when he knew nothing about the inner workings of the court. Johnny smiled and brushed Ten’s hair out of his hair, nodding in approval, heart full. 

  
  


For two years, Ten listened. He watched. He witnessed how the court worked, what alliances there were, who to watch, and who could be trusted. He needed to know where the lines were, what cards he had, and how he would play. What he could throw out, open hand; and what he had to keep under his sleeves. 

 

Politics is a dangerous game; every move must be calculated. Ten was intelligent, and not to mention charming, especially with two heavily influential scholars, having connections both within China and Korea, and outside of it; it was easier for Ten to weave around the minefield, avoiding possible tragedies. 

  
  
  


Two years is a long time, and Ten would sometimes whine about it, but Johnny would soothe him, saying that time means nothing in the political realm; things occur so fast, everything changes quickly, power moves like the wind; or, things could move slowly and the perfect opportunity will present itself when it is time. Ten would simply nod, and sigh, before going back to reading his books. 

  
  
  
  
  


He and his brother re-began their relationship. Taeyong apologised for his behaviour, and Ten had as well. The “sorry” spilled from his lips had Taeyong and Johnny frozen in shock, but it ended with the brothers embracing, and Johnny pretends not to see the tears of relief, and pent up frustration, that Ten had built up in his chest all these years. 

 

Taeyong and Ten begun their relationship carefully. Some grudges still remained and hard feelings underlay, but they were both willing to try again. Taeyong expressed how he hated how Ten just closed himself off after their mother’s death, never considering that he should make their mother proud. Ten then openly shared how difficult it was for him, and once again, the two embraced, Taeyong patting Ten’s back as tears soaked the royal robes. 

 

They properly mourned and grieved over their mother, reminiscing better times, laughing at the stupid small miscommunications they had. They actually worked well together, personalities quite compatible, both on equal wavelengths. They, and their two guards, spent much time together. 

 

Sometimes, they simply talked about anything, laughing loudly, happiness filling the two masters faces till they were rosy; Jaehyun almost cried at how normal and healthy the King looked. Sometimes, Taeyong would guide Ten in making policies, or advice him on certain things. Those were the days with tea poured endlessly into their cups, as Taeyong shared his experience, and Ten diligently took notes. Doyoung and Kun would join as well, giving little suggestions here and there. 

 

Sometimes, the brothers would get into debates, talking about certain ethics, their system etc. Ten was so convincing, that Taeyong cancelled the The Great Hunt in favour of protecting wildlife. Johnny doesn’t think he has seen Ten look so satisfied and happy before. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


The boy hardly sketches anymore, his schedule completely changed. Johnny however, still finds some sketches. Sometimes they are of the tigers in the southern mountains. Sometimes, of the kittens which have now grown into two cats who think they own the entire palace, prancing around, expecting people to feed them. 

 

They have their own servants, and Ten thinks it is ridiculous, but royal protocol overrules his eye roll, so the cats are very much doted on in the palace. They may run all over the place, but they will always come back, eyes sharp in the darkness of the tower, next to their master, sitting, watching, waiting in the shadows of the darkness. 

  
  


Sometimes, he finds sketches of him. Him looking out of the window. Him reading a book. Him looking straight into the eyes of the person appreciating the art. Those are the times when he is watching Ten. He doesn’t know what to make of it. He simply puts the parchment back to where he found them, cheeks colouring. 

 

Johnny had been promoted to head of the Imperial Guards. His job scope is no longer just keep watch of Ten, but also to train the 200 men under him. Ten is only a prince, which is why there are only 200, instead of the 1500 strong imperial guard body, which Jaehyun leads. He has become busier, ensuring everyone is up on par. He oversees their training, and occasionally spars with them. Afternoons, he will read documents regarding the guards, the schedules, profiles of the new guards coming in.  

  
  
  


The tower has now transformed into a space for four, instead of one; Ten, him, and the two cats. They set up a small space for the two cats to reside in, but neither does as they are told, always sleeping on the bed instead of their designated sleeping areas. Ten would roll his eyes, but Johnny knows Ten secretly likes it. There is always a smile on the younger’s face, when he wakes with one of the cats asleep on his chest. 

 

They cleared out the bars and ropes, Ten saying he knows enough of the sport anyway, and they built a second storey or something like a loft, a platform that only covers half the airspace. The stairs leading up to that, is where Ten works, having access to the books both above and below. Johnny’s desk lies below the platform, as does his small bed. 

 

But in truth, more often than not, they spend nights together on the king-sized bed, Ten claiming that it is big enough, and when Johnny mentioned “royal rules”, Ten had rolled his eyes and said that neither of them cared for it anyway. Which is true, and Johnny hates that Ten is right. He is cautious to not touch the royal; it would ensue a death penalty, and he is far from wanting death.

 

One too many times, however, he still finds himself wrapping an arm around the sniffling younger in the middle of the night, his nightshirt soaked with tears, but he doesn’t mind. Something nags in his heart, that this isn’t right, and it is not just because they are prince and bodyguard; it’s they are two _ men _ .

 

His life plan that he often fantasised with his late mother as she stroked his hair at night, after draining all her stories of her childhood, was to find a good girl from a good family —she  doesn’t have to be wealthy, but she should be of considerable status—and then find a good job, settle down, have kids, retire, and die respectably, with grandchildren. That was the plan, that was the goal. 

 

And now it is all ruined because of one pretty Thai prince, who is not just enchanting, but charismatic, smart, can draw, has excellent swordsmanship, has green fingers, and dear Lord, even has two tigers under his control  _ and _ two cats. Johnny buries his head in his hands, trying to calm his rapid breathing. He  _ hates _ this. 

  
  


The door opens, and in comes the very prince he was having a dilemma about, and he sits up, pretending that he was just having a complete breakdown. Living together for two years has Ten knowing Johnny inside out, so he places a fleeting hand on Johnny’s shoulder after he strides in, the cats on his heels. He peers at the notes on the guards and then looks at Johnny, who then looks away, clearing his throat. 

 

“What’s so difficult, that you’re having a near breakdown?” Ten asks lightly as he picks up the pure white cat: Busarkaham. It means sapphire in Thai, or so Ten says. The name is too complicated for Johnny, so he just calls her Sapphire. The black cat with small stripes of white on the top of his head, is called Kiet, which means honour in Thai. Johnny has a particular liking for this one, and he picks him up, stroking the fur as the cat purrs. 

 

Johnny ignores Ten’s question and says, whilst still stroking Kiet’s fur. “Do you miss Landa and Sae?” They haven’t been to the southern mountains for a long time, mostly due to the amount of work Ten has piled up for him. 

 

The prince has been secretly formulating policies to solve the crimes and problems in the country, often taking visits to the slums, taking note of every possible problem, and then working together with his team of special scholars, consisting of a noble’s son, Doyoung, and a Chinese counterpart, Qian Kun, to formulate a recipe of solution. Johnny often warns them of the feasibility, that planning is good, but being on the ground, is a whole different story. In the end, he joins them for their meetings as well, having lived in those kind of conditions before, giving them his raw opinion. 

  
  


“Of course.” Ten replies, masking the longing in his voice. Two years, and Johnny knows Ten inside out as well. Or so he thinks. He is still always finding new sides of the growing teenage everyday. 

 

“Maybe we can go see them this winter?” Johnny suggest as he lets Kiet escape from his grasp. 

 

Ten shrugs as he puts down Busarkaham. “We’ll see.” He climbs up the stairs and Johnny hears the chair scraping across the platform, and knows something is wrong. 

  
  
  


“What’s wrong, prince?” Johnny asks as he climbs up the stairs, leaning against the table, catching Ten’s wrist, taking the brush from Ten’s hand, placing it down on the ink box.

 

“Taeyong is dying. The doctor says no more than four months.” Ten says flatly, taking a deep breath, closing his eyes, before looking down to play with a loose string on his robes. Johnny takes note to send it to the tailor. Appearance is very important in establishing position and power. 

 

“It’s not fair.” Ten quietly states, fingers scraping the wood. 

 

“Nothing is fair. You have to be strong, my prince. There’s not much time left.” 

 

Ten nods. “And just when I thought we could have some time to bond. Make up for the lost time.” 

 

“We can go see him later, if you like.” Johnny says, standing up straight, ready to head down to prepare the arrangements, and to look for Jaehyun. 

 

Before he leaves, Ten pulls him back by the wrist, innocent, big doe eyes looking straight at Johnny. The latter’s hands starts getting clammy. For a long time, the two have yet to have another staring contest, far too busy with more important things. Maybe it’s been a long time, that’s why he’s so flustered. 

 

“You won’t leave me, will you?” Ten asks earnestly. Johnny’s throat closes up and he coughs, breaking the eye contact. “I...I will never, my prince. Imperial guards don’t leave their King. It’s always the other way round.” He tries to say this as calmly and as factually as possible, trying hard to ignore the twist in his heart. 

 

Ten continues to stare at him, and Johnny can almost see the words hanging on his lips, but Ten merely hums in reply, letting Johnny’s wrist go, turning the pages of his book, setting the brush on paper again. Johnny lets out a breath he doesn’t know he is holding, as he leaves the room, in search for Jaehyun. 

  
  
  
  
  


“Jaehyun!” He sees the bodyguard on his break. Very rare to see the King’s personal bodyguard having a break, but Jaehyun does, from three to four, because the King takes his afternoon nap then, recuperating. 

 

“Johnny.” The other smiles as he squeezes his fellow comrade’s shoulder. They talk briefly about what they have been doing, before getting to the point. 

 

“How’s the King?” Johnny says, sipping the herbal tea Jaehyun had poured for him. Jaehyun closes his eyes and sighs. “There’s not much time left. He….is contented. He says it’s time to go. He has suffered enough. Four years battling his illness, it’s been a long time, Johnny. It’s better if he goes. I hate to see him in pain, everyday.” Hurt seeps through the words, and Johnny’s heart breaks for his friend. 

 

“Will you...will you be okay?” No one has said it openly, and neither the King nor Jaehyun, nor the court has ever acknowledged the unusual fact that the King has no queen, nor concubines. 

 

“Well, I have to be.” Jaehyun says, opening his eyes, drawing his shoulders back. “If I break, what will happen to the imperial guards? Besides, Taeyong always says that he finds strength in me.” Johnny has gotten used to Jaehyun using the King’s first name when they are alone, but he still refers to Taeyong as the King. 

 

Curiosity creeps up Johnny’s heart, and he looks around, but finds no one listening. How can there be? Besides the few guards just at the end of the corridor, no one is allowed so close to the King’s quarters, besides him, Jaehyun and Ten. 

 

“Are you….” 

 

Jaehyun gives Johnny a small smile, encouraging him to go on further. “...In a relationship with the King?” 

 

A pause, before Jaehyun answers him. “Yes.” He breathes out, and Johnny doesn’t think he has seen his friend look so blissful before. 

 

“But…” Johnny bites his lips, ensure of how to proceed. 

 

“I know. It’s a little weird, between two men. But, he’s happy, so am I. We just left it as it is.” Jaehyun says easily, with so much confidence, confidence he wished he had. 

 

“Why do you ask?” 

 

“Just...just curious.” Johnny mumbles. 

 

“Or maybe because of a certain prince,” Jaehyun says, smirking, laughing when Johnny chokes on his tea. He raises a hand to tell the guard at the end of the corridor that all is alright, before laughing softly as Johnny glares at him. 

 

“How do you know?” Johnny asks, still staring daggers at his giggling friend. 

 

Jaehyun shrugs. “Just instincts.”

 

“I don’t….” Johnny bites his lips again, unsure. He is uncertain, what all these means. What it means for them. What it means for the future. More importantly, what it means for Ten’s future, as King. He will have to have an empress, concubines, _ women. _ Not men. 

 

“I suggest,” Jaehyun says softly, squeezing Johnny’s hand, “That you speak to him about it. Maybe not now, his mind must be all over the place, right now. Maybe later. But talk about it, share about it. It helps. It helped me and Taeyong, and I’m sure it will help you too.” 

 

“But most importantly,” Jaehyun says, standing up. Four is approaching, and his duty is beginning. “Search yourself. Find what you want. Discover who you are. Once you have decided and who you are, what you want to be, things get a lot easier. Trust me.” 

 

Johnny watches Jaehyun straighten his clothes, and walk into the King’s room, exuding a confidence Johnny wished he had. He wonders when his best friend became so wise. 

  
  


Maybe it’s what happens when death lingers in the air. We grow up. 


	5. 5. 2390 WHEN DEATH LINGERS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thankyou everyone who has loved this fic thus far, and have left comments and kudos :) i'm sorry for the slow update; it should pick up by tomorrow. here's a dose of angst for an apology :)
> 
> social media:  
> [tumblr](https://tenecity.tumblr.com/)  
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/tenecty)  
> [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me)

**_5. 2390 WHEN DEATH LINGERS_ **

 

 

Johnny walks into the room sheepishly, face colouring as the three men silently watch him enter. He takes his seat at the corner of the table, mumbling a sorry, while Ten rolls his eyes, turning back to his paperwork. 

 

“So like I was saying, the root problem of this is the economy.” 

 

“And the transparency of the political system.” 

 

Ten nods, scribbling something down. “That too. But it is difficult to weed out politicians who are embezzling and who are feeding the black market. It’s a lucrative business.” 

 

“Giving them, the people, another option to earn money will do the trick.” Doyoung says. “It’s all about the money. Where the money goes, the people follow. We need the military under our belt. In which we already do.” He says, gesturing at Johnny, who just stares back blankly. “What?” 

 

“Imperial Guard Jung Jaehyun commands at least 1500 men. Chief Army Commander Nakamoto Yuta has pledged his loyalty to us. We have at least 75% of the army with us, excluding the private guards for the various royals and officials. Use them, storm the black market, and tear it down.” 

 

“There will be bloodshed,” Kun, the more pacifist of the two, points out. 

 

“What is a revolution without bloodshed? If you want to eradicate it completely, death has to come into the picture. It is what scares people the most.” Doyoung defends, and Kun shrugs, helpless. 

 

Ten nods, agreeing. “It sounds like a solid plan. We will have Imperial Guard Jung and Chief Army Commander Nakamoto to lead it then. Johnny will oversee their plan?” He looks up, asking Johnny. The man simply nods. “Take all the entrances. Target the major leaders and all their possible successors.” Doyoung points out, looking at his flowchart, a detailed information sheet on the black market business and gangs. 

 

“I think it would be better that you give the people another option first, before removing the black market.” Johnny quietly points out, holding his gaze with Ten. 

 

“Why so?” Kun asks, pushing up his glasses to look at Johnny more carefully. 

 

“The black market is their livelihood. If you just wipe it out, it would seem cruel to them. They would say, ‘Easy for you royals, with all your values and good facades, but what about us?’ It’s a common sentiment among the people, trust me. They feel bitter towards the royals, because the disparity is too big.” Johnny continues. 

 

Ten hums, eyebrows furrowing. 

 

“This is why, Prince Ten, I suggested we open the route to trade with SouthEast Asia, as well as with the Near East. SEA first, then the Near East of course, it would be easier. Build homes along the trading routes, build schools, build wells. Teach them how to trade. Give them gifts if they reach a certain target. We have already done the first step, by speaking with the Foreign Minister Moon Taeil. He has agreed to come with us for the talks with Thailand, Laos, Vietnam and Cambodia.” Kun says, eyeing Doyoung. 

 

The two have very different styles, but their different perspectives and views helps Ten weigh the pros and cons, and how to balance the two. 

 

“This shall be done then. We have diplomatic talks with the various countries by the end of this year. Next year, we aim to build the houses etc, and encourage the people to move. Around summer, in the sixth month, we will start tracking down those politicians and eradicate them, as well as the black market.” 

 

Doyoung shakes his head. “Why expand out, when you should clean the inside first? Sort out the inside matters first, _ then  _ consider working with other countries. If your foundation is weak, the building on it is bound to collapse. There will be loopholes that will be hard to cover up. Problems may worsen when the money starts rolling in. Inefficiency will be a problem with selfish politicians crawling all over the place.” He crosses his arms as silence fills the room, the other three understanding the weight of his words. 

 

“He...is right. I used to think I should help the people on the ground first, never mind the politics behind it. But the root problem to all the subsequent ones, is because of our terrible political system. Too much embezzlement. Not enough transparency. Alliances and grudges. The court is too separated and are not working as one unit. If Prince Ten finds people who are loyal and are willing to work for society, then your subsequent plans for the economy etc, will work better.” Johnny voices out after a period of silence, eyes down. 

 

He knows how Ten feels. He aches to help the people, to solve the problems that are so obvious and visible. But the Chinese saying goes, “斩草不除根，春风吹又生”; if you don’t cut the roots of the grass, they are bound to grow again. It is always better to nip the problem at the bud, instead of fighting a continuous battle, only for more problems to spring out. That is the problem with their current society, and why Taeyong has been so tired; the problems seem endless. 

 

Kun nods his head, sharing his thoughts. “Yes. That makes sense too.” He says evenly.

 

All eyes are on Ten as he furrowed his eyebrows, eyes trained on the paper in front of him. He bites his lips, and rubs his temples. “It will take a long time,” he finally says.  _ Time. _ That’s what it always is for Ten. Time is precious, and he doesn’t want to waste it. 

 

“It is necessary, Prince Ten. We will waste more time, if we only clean the surface and not the problems underneath.” Doyoung says gently. 

 

He nods again, and sighs. They continue to discuss, how they would do the purging, how they would find the evidence, what evidence they already have, who is loyal enough, who is on their side, who is good enough. Their talks make Johnny’s head spin, especially when Doyoung and Kun debate; Doyoung always spotting the wrongs and Kun always bringing light to the good in people. Ten would always make the decision in the end, eyes searching Johnny’s. He trusts Johnny’s instinct more than his own. 

  
  
  


Finally, late night falls and the bell chimes, signalling a new day. They exchange greetings and retire to their homes, Johnny and Ten walking back to the tower in silence. 

  
  


It is hard to keep their plans under wraps, especially since Doyoung and Kun are a powerful, moving force, taking the people they want, and placing targets on the backs of unwanted officials. 

 

In the two years, the pair have managed to bring justice, as they overthrew two officials who have been feeding the gambling problem by running casinos, through major gangs. It resulted in much bloodshed, but eventually, the two gangs were thrown of the list. It created a power vacuum however, and whenever there are reports of more gangs rising to power, Ten’s head pounds, and he can only sigh as he gets back to more work. 

 

Ever since that major scandal, the officials have become more careful. They are more cautious, and clean their trails better. More importantly, they too want to follow the “斩草不除根，春风吹又生” principle. Multiple times, they have tried, but failed to kill one of the trio, Johnny thus purposefully attaching trusted, loyal guards to the two, he himself having eyes wide open for a possible attack. 

 

Tonight is no different, as his eyes searches the darkness, footsteps careful, and arm protectively placed a few millimetres before Ten. The guards before and after them, also on high alert. But there is nothing tonight, so he relaxes as they enter their tower, the cats greeting them as per usual. He searches the balcony and the room thoroughly, before finally relaxing as he peels off his shirt, changing into a new one. 

 

Ten watches the keen eyes and the toned back muscles. Johnny often describes him as a cat, so silent, and always sitting, waiting, watching, and moving with such grace and authority. Yet, he can also be impatient, wanting something immediately. He whines to Johnny to hurry up, in which the other gives a good natured huff of annoyance. 

 

Johnny averts his eyes as he approaches the prince, quietly requesting to undress him. Ten has had no one touch him, except Johnny, so now, Johnny is pretty much doing every job: bodyguard, eunuch and maid. They work through his many layers in silence, Ten humming as he strokes the cats, warm moist cloth brushing over his back as his robes pool at his waist. 

 

He looked beautiful (when did he not?), moonlight reflecting off his skin, making him a glowing porcelain in the darkness, the two cats with their frightening bright eyes by his side, watching quietly as Johnny wipes the cloth over Ten’s body. 

 

He cleans the shoulder blade, cloth moving south to clean the span of the back. Ten grew, not to be muscular, but he was lean and his frame filled. Johnny likes it. He then gently asks Ten to turn around, as he cleans Ten’s frontier and his neck, ignoring the flush growing from his neck up, and the painfully piercing eyes of Ten. 

  
  


“It’s going to be a hard few years when I become King.” Ten quietly comments as Johnny cleans the hip bones. He doesn’t go further south, simply straightening his back as he wipes the cloth over Ten’s abs. 

 

“Nothing is easy.” Johnny comforts, turning to dip the cloth in water, squeezing it dry, before he starts to cleans Ten’s slender hands. They are. amazingly, not as callous as Johnny’s are, but maybe because he was taught the royal way of handling a sword. With ease and flair. Not with the mere purpose of butchering. 

 

“Will you still be my guard when I become King? Will you still stay with me?” Ten asks, so earnestly, it is like he twists a dagger in Johnny’s heart. 

 

“Of course, so long as you want it.” Johnny replies easily, tracing the biceps, and the shoulders. The cloth wipes the prominent collar bones, before moving towards the other arm. 

 

Ten hums. “How is Jaehyun?” He asks, watching Johnny’s side profile, the hair getting into his eyes as he tries to concentrate on cleaning Ten’s arm, instead of how strong the arm feels under the cloth. Ten absentmindedly brushes the hair, commenting that it needs to be cut. Johnny shrugs. “He’s holding up. He thinks it’s better if the King goes. He hates it that the King has to suffer so much.” 

 

“Would you let me go if I suffered that much?” Ten asks, as Johnny places the cloth back into the bowl, picking the golden plated metal basin up, and draining it in the sink.

 

“I don’t know.” Johnny says as he sighs, putting Ten’s night shirt, helping him button it up. 

  
  


“Will you always protect me?” Ten asks, eyes cutting Johnny’s face, and he wishes the younger will stop asking so many question. “Of course I will.” He says uneasily. He can sense that this is leading somewhere, and he doesn’t know if he likes it or not, his stomach churning. 

 

He places his hands on Ten’s shoulders as the prince closes his eyes, sighing in contentment as Johnny massages the tight shoulders, working wonders on the tight knots. The cats meow as they dive under the covers, knowing full well that half an hour from know, it would be bedtime. 

 

“Can you sleep here tonight?” Ten slurs, already half dreaming as Johnny finishes his work, giving the shoulders a last squeeze. He carefully places Ten under the sheets, brushing the younger’s hair back. He looked youthful like this, relaxed and not stressed, unlike in the day where he looks ten years older, burdens on his back. 

 

“If you want me too.” Johnnys says, though he is already tucking himself in, knowing the answer too well. 

 

He presses a small kiss on the prince’s forward, unable to stop himself, before settling down, a smile on his face, the cats sitting at the edge of the bed, eyes watching in the darkness. He feels safe like this, the cats having his back, Ten in his arms, head under his chin, lulling to sleep.

  
  


It is a moment later, does Johnny realise why he had felt so uneasy. 

  
  


“Do you love me?” Ten whispers, fingers tracing the cotton against Johnny’s toned stomach. The elder clenches his jaw and pulls away slightly, clearing his throat. “That’s not….that’s not something a prince asks a guard. In fact, we shouldn’t-” He is cut short as Ten rolls his eyes and tugs at his shirt, pulling Johnny back closer as he presses a kiss on the edge of the jaw. 

 

“Why are you always so uptight?” Ten mumbles as he kisses the piercing on Johnny’s ear, pressing the guard down and snuggling next to him, legs tangling to prevent the elder from moving away. “Relax. You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.” 

  
  


A silence spreads between them, and Ten falls slowly into sleep, breathing evening out. 

 

Johnny, on the other, can’t calm his palpitating heart, trying hard to even out his breathing, his fingers unconsciously touching the spot Ten’s lips fell on, smiling a little to himself as warmth spreads through him. 

 

He adjusts his body, pressing himself closer to Ten, feeding off the warmth of the other. 

  
  


Maybe this is what he wants, for the rest of his life. Instead of a good wife, from a good family, with good kids, and then good grandchildren. Maybe he just wants this not-so-good, in fact very badass, prince, for the rest of his life. 

  
  
  


Johnny is a light sleeper, and he wakes at the first of the rapid knocking, quickly getting up and opening the door, only to be met with a frantic Guard Lee Donghyuck, his favourite guard, and prodigy. 

 

“What’s wrong?” He asks, heart racing but tone calm. 

 

Donghyuck is more frantic, mumbling something about the King, and Guard Jung. He quickly goes back in, and rises Ten, and they both throw on some simple clothes, rushing to the King’s bedroom. 

  
  


But they are too late. Jaehyun is already weeping, kneeling next to the bed, holding on to the still warm hand, that has started to chill, of their late King. 


	6. 6. 2869 STAY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> one of the most emotionally charged chapters zzz good luck!! thankyou for the kudos and comments once again; i really appreciate them ^^ 
> 
> hmu on my social media:   
> [tumblr](https://tenecity.tumblr.com/)  
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/tenecty)
> 
> ask me questions on this fic / my other fics on my: [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me) !
> 
> side note: if you can spot that one line from chain, congratulations! you are an intellectual

 

_**6\. 2869 STAY** _

 

 

The funeral takes seven days, and is excruciatingly long, with many processions and the like. Ten feels numb, his face expressionless as he goes through the motions, nodding, but not really listening. Johnny tries to coax the other, but he has already withdrawn to his shell; and he looks lost, far more lost than he did, two years ago. 

 

They all know, that once the funeral is over, the bloodshed begins. 

 

Hence, Doyoung busies himself by making plans with Yuta and Jaehyun (though, that one involved a lot more work than with Yuta, considering the grief the guard is shouldering). Kun busies himself by rallying those on their side, as well as their nearby neighbours, signing contracts and treaties, ensuring that should any mishap happen, they can activate their allies, sustaining themselves with a net of safety.

 

Johnny is very grateful for them, helping to shoulder the responsibilities, while Ten is still so lost. He never cried a drop, merely staring into space, his fingers clenching around the sheets. Many times, he woke up in the middle of the night, suffocated and silently screaming; Johnny immediately waking up to soothe and calm him down, gentle words in his hair, fingers tracing circles on Ten’s back, counting his breaths with Ten as they lock gazes; Ten trying hard to ground himself to reality; Johnny desperately trying to pull him back. 

 

“You’re okay. I’m here, prince. Ten, I’m here.” Johnny whispers as the prince pants, tears in his eyes as he shudders. Today is the third day of the procession, and finally the prince speaks, for the first time in three days.

 

“Why is Fate so cruel? The gods took everything from me.  _ Everything _ . My father, my mother, my brother. Later, maybe even you, Kun, Doyoung, and then there will only me left. I’ll go crazy. I am going crazy. They won’t shut up. The voices in my head.” Ten rambles, breathing becoming rapid as fear sets into his heart. 

 

Johnny tilts Ten’s face up. He hopes his words will drown out whatever demons reside in Ten. He hates those voices as much as Ten does. They steal Ten,  _ his _ prince, away. They make him suffer. 

 

“Hey, look at me.” He whispers. “Ten, stay with me, please.” He gently instructs, caressing Ten’s cheek and chin, touch so, so, soft. Ten looks at him, pearls of tears at the corner of his eyes, reflecting the moonlight. He doesn’t look beautiful like this, fear coursing in his eyes in rushing currents, white foam. 

  
  


He has no idea what is going on between those two brain cells of his, but Johnny knows no words are going to comfort Ten: not anymore, at least; not with the Prince so far off. So he leans in, hand carefully cupping Ten’s face, pressing his lips just shy from the Prince’s lips. This is completely against the rules, and every single protocol, and for goodness’ sake, he is a  _ man _ .

 

But none of that registers, when fingers wrap around his wrist, pulling him impossibly closer, tilting his head so that lip presses lip. Johnny is almost too shocked to pull away, and Ten slots his lips, mingling the heart shaped lips with his thin ones, fingers still shaking. 

 

“Wait, I-” Johnny pulls away, looking panicked as he pulls away, staring into Ten’s almost-black eyes. His hand moves on its own, caressing Ten’s face. This is so wrong. The King has just died, they are two men, with a employer-employee relationship, and Ten is a  _ prince _ , he, a mere guard with no noble blood running through his veins whatsoever. He isn’t even supposed to  _ touch _ Ten.

 

This is against every single rule there is in the world, and the always law-abiding citizen, is now breaking every single one of them. It doesn’t stop him, however, from simply brushing Ten’s hair out of his eyes, thumbs swiping over the wet cheeks, wishing he would stop, but he just can’t. 

 

He bites his lips then, closes his eyes, head down, regathering his thoughts, with just enough self control to pause and drop his hand. He sighs, prepared to move out of the bed. He needs to move away, before he does something stupid and spiral out of control.

  
  


“Please don’t leave.” The clear voice, now tainted with hurt and grief cracks his heart, and he wishes he could just ignore it. Instead, he runs his fingers through his hair, breathing out. He can do this. He can control- 

  
  


His thoughts don’t even run clear as he turns around, letting loose, crashing into Ten as he desperately presses his lips back against the royal’s, everything fitting back to place. 

 

He wishes everything he does, could take the burden off Ten’s shoulders. He has always been so useless, just pacing around Ten, massaging his shoulders, not doing much to lift the burden. And this, _ this _ , he has wanted to do it for so long, and yet never had the courage too. 

 

It was like a dream, a wish made into reality, as his lips touch against the burning skin of Ten’s, pressing gently on his neck, his collarbones, his cheeks, his jaw, his forehead, and back onto those intriguing, greek god-like sculpted lips.

 

Ten’s fingers are threading through Johnny’s hair, and the mere touches that Johnny gives him are sending sparks down his spine, grounding him back into reality. The voices in his head shut up, as his mind is filled with the overwhelming sensation of bruised lips against smooth skin. 

 

When Johnny comes back to claims his lips again, the thought of his brother’s death had just slipped into his mind, but removes itself, as Johnny starts whispering to him. Just him and Johnny, Johnny and him, words only spoken and heard between the two of them, words only  _ for  _ them.

  
  


“Stay with me, prince. Stay with me. You’re okay. You have me. I’m never,” Johnny says as he kisses Ten’s cheeks, his own ones wet with grief, heart aching from seeing Ten in so much pain, “ever, going to leave you. Guards don’t leave their royals-” 

 

Ten silences the rest of the sentence by touching Johnny’s neck with his lips, tracing the places his once pressed onto so hard, thinking he was a demon. Johnny is  _ anything _ but a demon. He is an angel. 

 

“Royals never leave their guards too.” Ten promises, bringing Johnny’s lips to his, pulling away to wipe the salty tears he could taste against those soft pink flesh. 

  
  
  
  
  


“You never cry.” Ten comments as Johnny leans back down onto the pillow, hands reaching out for Ten as the latter collapses in them, fingers whispering against the skin, sending tingles wherever they grazed. 

 

“No. But I make an exception. For my royal.” He says, heart slowing into contentment as he feels Ten’s lips stretch into a smile, his face nuzzling to Johnny’s neck. Warm seeps through his being and  _ yes _ , this is what he wants, for the rest of his life. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


The next few days seem to pass easier. Neither speak about their kiss, nor the cheesy, loving words they spoke, but they can both feel a change. Fleeting touches, eyes locking, exchanging unspoken words. Kun nudges Doyoung, and comments about it, while Doyoung groans. He has enough on his plate, and now he has deal with two lovebirds? God  _ bless.  _

  
  


“Now, excuse me for my language, but I would sincerely appreciate it, if you would stop eyefucking each other, while me and Kun are so _ desperately  _ trying to figure out a plan.” He glares at Johnny, not being able to glare at a royal. Johnny blushes, while Ten rolls his eyes. 

  
  
  


“Two more days.” Kun states. “I predict the initial bloodshed will take about three to four days. Consolidating your power after, however, may be more difficult, and more time consuming.” 

 

“We have split Chief Commander Yuta, and Imperial Guard Jung’s troops up. There will be fifteen units of a hundred foot soldiers, five units of archers. Thailand and Cambodia have both agreed to provide back up if needed, and have informally pledged their loyalty to you, Prince Ten.” Kun says smoothly as his robes float with flair, him moving around the table where the map is laid on. 

 

“This is supposed to be my job, if you please, Noble Kun.” Doyoung says, but only teasingly. 

 

Kun ignores him and Johnny snickers, receiving a glare from the Chinese noble clad in blue.

 

“The tower is on the south gate, so that shall be our base. The north gates and eastern gates shall be the ones we target, the south gates being where many of our allies reside. The northern side holds many of the royals; Yuta shall try to get hold there, since he has more troops, thus having the ability to outnumber the private troops the royals already have.” Kun places five black knights on the northern area. 

 

“His second in command, Commander Dong, will lead the other five troops to circle from the back. A wolf trap. Flushing them out, but only to trap them back in.” He says, placing five more knights on the other side of the northern area. 

 

“Imperial Guard Jung says the eunuchs are also prepared to fight. That leaves five units under Imperial Guard Jung, to take the eastern gates. There, is where the dirty businesses reside. He is thus also given the task of uncovering possible embezzled gold and whatnot.” 

  
  


“Jaehyun will be on the field?” Ten frowns as he asks, watching Kun place five red knights on the southern area. “I thought I told you to leave him out of it.” 

 

Doyoung shrugs. “He wanted to. Said something about his last wish to the emperor.” Ten nods, throat tight as he stares at Johnny. They could just lose the remaining pieces of their late King, all together, in the following three to five days. 

  
  
  


“I’ll go with Jaehyun.” Johnny states quietly, avoiding everyone’s gaze.    
  


“You are not.” Ten replies, fingers tapping on the wood. Three taps meant Johnny should back off and keep quiet; he is  _ not _ the royal around here. Ten makes the call, and everyone  _ sticks to it _ ; no questions asked. 

 

“He’s my best friend, my brother. I’m not going to let him lead only 5 units of a hundred, pretty much untrained soldiers. He and I work best together. We trained for a long time.” Johnny tries, biting his lips. He already knows where this is going. 

 

“I  _ said _ , you’re not going anywhere. Is there a need to repeat myself?” Ten asked, challenging, his eyes darkening, the coldness seeping in them. 

 

“And if you go, who will protect me?”

 

Johnny gives Doyoung a pointed look, who replies the gesture with an astonished look, and he mouths “me?”, pointing to himself, eyes wide with panic. 

 

Is the guard  _ kidding? _ He may know how to hold a sword but he can’t even  _ touch _ Ten; it’s not allowed. The rule is only an exception when it comes to Johnny. Johnny rolls his eyes at Doyoung’s comical reaction, trying to lighten the mood. It doesn’t work. 

 

“Guard Seo, I  _ said _ , no. End of discussion.” Ten glares at Johnny, hot, piercing eyes cutting skin. 

 

Silence follows, and the air is tense. Doyoung looks between the two; Ten’s eyes hot with anger, fingers clenching; Johnny’s eyes, though calm, have a slight panic in them. And although well masked, if Doyoung can see through it, so can Ten. 

 

Unspoken words are exchanged; that, Doyoung doesn’t have a clue about. Kun, on the other hand, remains unbothered, placing another red knight on the south. 

 

Ten sees the placement and with a sound of frustration, sweeps the table clean in fury, the knights clanking on the floor, the map ruined. He runs his fingers through his hair as he storms out, huffing in anger. Johnny, unfortunately, has to follow, leaving Doyoung to watch them worriedly, biting his nails while Kun shrugs. 

 

“Something has to give,” he comments, picking up the knights. “I am  _ very _ sure Guard Jung will not be going alone.” 

  
  
  
  
  
  


“You  _ told _ me you weren’t going to leave me.” Ten says, trying to control his temper the moment the door closes behind the both of them, whipping around as his eyes shoot fire-tip arrows accusingly. 

 

“I am  _ not  _ leaving you.” Johnny tries to say calmly. He stays near the door, not even making an effort to come closer. 

 

“You know how it is out there, Seo Youngho!” Ten exclaims, throwing his hands in the air in exasperation and desperation. 

 

“Blood is everywhere. They are out to  _ kill _ . They aren’t going to go down without a fight. Especially with their records of dirty business there.  _ Johnny _ , it’s not going to go down well. At least 50% rate of casualties. The people they hire are as skilled as you and Jaehyun, maybe even better.” Ten is pleading at this point, panic in him rising. He doesn’t want to say it, but it is close. He just doesn’t want Johnny to  _ die.  _ To  _ leave  _ him, all alone, again _. _

 

Anxiety’s cold fingers are wrapping themselves around his neck, and he is choking, suffocating, drowning. Johnny longs to calm him down, but he needs to make Ten  _ understand. _

 

“Ten, this isn’t some random guard. This is my  _ brother _ . He saved me from the streets. And he is in grief now, Ten. I can’t just leave him on the field all on his own, with his emotions running so high and all over the place. He is planning to give his _ life  _ for this, Ten. He will die, if I’m not there to watch his back.” Tears are seeping through his words now, and he can’t stop the tear drops from spilling. 

 

He loves Jaehyun, as a brother. His first form of family, after two years of nothing, loneliness. A person who stood up for him, who protected him, who took care of him. He wasn’t going to abandon his best friend at the most crucial moment. He can’t lose yet another one of his family. 

 

“Please, Johnny.  _ Please _ . I can’t lose you too. I can’t lose Taeyong, and then Jaehyun, and then you. I can’t lose my entire family just like that. You’re not going. You are  _ not _ . Don’t even try.” Ten says this so fiercely, he is gritting his teeth, fury flaming. Why can’t Johnny just understand how important he is to him? 

  
  
  


Johnny sighs, running his fingers through his hair. He can feel his own anger and desperation bubbling. “Why can’t you understand that  _ this isn’t just about you? _ Jaehyun is my family too, Ten. I’m not going to let him go on the field alone. Not when he is like this.” 

 

“Oh, so you don’t mind abandoning  _ me _ behind? Risking my safety? What if the plan fails and they come to the tower? If you’re not around, I’m  _ never _ safe.” Ten glares at Johnny, angered that Johnny chose Jaehyun over him. He is the prince. He should be first priority. And for goodness’ sake, Johnny works for  _ him. _

 

“Ten, you know how to fight. You know how to protect yourself.” 

 

“Well, and so does Jaehyun!” 

 

“But it’s different! He’s not emotionally stable-” 

 

“And so am I.” Ten cuts in defiantly. 

 

Johnny gives an exasperated sigh, his words heavy with fire, his words cutting, they pierce Ten’s heart with malice. 

 

“Sometimes I wish you weren’t such a selfish child. I wish you would understand that I’m having a dilemma too-” 

 

“Is it  _ that _ difficult to choose between me and Jaehyun?” Ten challenges, eyes looking straight into Johnny’s and usually, the other would be afraid, but the rage boiling gives him unprecedented courage. 

 

“ _ What _ are you trying to imply? Are you trying to say that just because you are a royal, you have more of an entitlement to life than he is? God, Ten! Grow up!” Johnny spits out, his voice damp and heavy as he shouts, flames of fire coursing through his veins, hot and furious. Unforgiving currents always carry the sign of death. 

 

“That is not what I said nor implied.” Ice forms crystals on his emphasised words.

 

“And to think that you knew me. To think I could trust you to protect me, stay with me. You always lie. You are breaking your promise.” Ten says childishly, his voice breaking. 

 

“Ten, this is  _ war _ . Not everything is going to be safe, not everything is going to stay with you-” 

 

“Yea, but at least  _ you _ , Johnny. At least you. And Busarkaham, Kiet, Sae and Landa. All I need is you, and those four. Is it really that hard to ask for?” 

 

“Ten,  _ stop _ it.” Johnny says rubbing his temples. The prince is making it harder for him to make a decision.

 

A silence stretches between them, a tense chord, and Ten just wants to scream and for Johnny to wrap his arms around him, and they fall asleep with their cats watching over them, this nightmare, over. But that is not how it works. 

  
  


Johnny takes a deep breath, his anger still in running through his bloodstream, but he is the older one here, so he is going to go out, take a breather, and come back to talk about this in a more civilised, organised, calm manner. He doesn’t say a word as he leaves. 

  
  
  


Ten crumbles. 


	7. 7. 3076 AND THEN, THERE WAS ONE.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i like Doyoung's character here more and more
> 
> hmu and watch out for little peeks or updates on my [tumblr](https://tenecity.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/tenecty)

_**7\. 3076 AND THEN, THERE WAS ONE.** _

 

 

“Okay, look  _ I’ll  _ go. This is ridiculous. The prince is right anyways, you are his bodyguard; you are supposed to  _ stay  _ with him.” Doyoung says as he pours a cup of tea for the fuming Johnny. The two, albeit quite different in background, opinion, and personality, had become close, in their shared interest to help and protect their prince. 

 

“This is different. Jaehyun….I can’t just leave him there like that. And yes, you may be excellent with your sword, but you hardly know Jaehyun. There is no chemistry. You may not see the dangers coming for him, or know how to accommodate with him. But I would know. I trained with him for seven  _ years _ .” Johnny explains, closing his eyes as his head pounds. 

 

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic, Seo Youngho. Guard Jung knows how to protect himself; even without you. I understand you are concerned; he could very well die on the field, no doubt about it. But Prince Ten needs someone’s protection, number one; and two, you know how very much he needs you around.” Doyoung doesn’t mince his words; he never does. He just presents the cold hard truth as it is; a quality that Ten treasures and Johnny admires. 

 

“I….what if something happens? I can’t afford to lose Jaehyun. He is like my family, my brother.” Johnny whispers, heart clenching. Why is war so difficult? Why must everything he love be on the line of death? 

 

“Don’t worry. Hey, you have me, and I’m one of the best swordsmen around. I can’t guarantee he will be 100% safe, but the chances of his survival are higher with me on the field.” 

 

“But we can’t lose you too, Doyoung. The three of you are supposed to stay alive, otherwise, who will be left to run the country? Besides, if you go, the prince is still bound to make a fuss.” Johnny asks, helplessly. Doyoung is lost as well, because Johnny has made a very good point, and he hates it.

 

On one hand, no one wants Jaehyun to go on the field alone; and they can’t just pull him out. There is no other commander or military leader strong enough, determined enough, dangerous enough, to fight this internal, bloody war. 

 

On the other hand, to ensure Jaehyun’s safety, they need someone as skilled as him to be next to him, fighting. That only leaves Johnny and Doyoung, Kun not really having much skill for the smell of iron and burning flesh. And yet, none of them can go; Johnny, because he is the prince’s bodyguard; Doyoung, because he is the core part of the trio. 

 

Doyoung tries racking his brains. He is supposed to be the problem-solver out of the three. While Kun is the sweet, polite delegate to speak to their partners and allies, Doyoung is the one formulating plans and solving the issues running deep, whilst Ten makes the final decisions and does the final settlements for their paperwork. But now, he has no answer at all, no solution. 

  
  
  
  


“I can go by myself, gentlemen. Have you forgotten that  _ I  _ was first in our class, my dear Johnny?” A voice calls from behind them and Doyoung jumps in shock, flushing from embarrassment at how easily scared he is. 

 

“Jaehyun-” 

 

“Don’t ‘Jaehyun’ me, Johnny Seo. It is fine. Nothing will happen, be rest assured.” Jaehyun says, taking a seat in his full armour, while Doyoung offers him a cup of tea. Despite his teasing tone and light humour, the dark circles under his eyes, the pale look on his face and the red rimmed eyes tell most, of how these few days has been. 

 

“Please, stay safe.” Johnny begs, looking straight into Jaehyun’s eyes, forcing the other to promise. 

 

“What is the palace without a little danger?” Jaehyun replies, taking a sip of his tea. “War is war, Johnny. No one is safe. Not even your prince, which, may I please request you look after him, now?” Jaehyun says it in such a commanding tone, Johnny now understands why 1500 men can listen to him without the lack of loyalty, determination, grit or drive. Even in his weakness, he holds authority and command in his voice. 

 

Johnny quietly leaves, a squeeze on Jaehyun’s shoulders, before trudging back to the tower, slipping into the night like a shadow. 

  
  
  


The silence between Jaehyun and Doyoung is awkward as they sip tea and stare at each other. 

 

“Er, how are you doing, Guard Jung?” Doyoung clears his throat in his poor attempt to make some conversation. He notices how the shoulders slack a little, the humorous tilt of the lips just drooping down, the eyes misty. 

 

The other shrugs, taking another sip from his tea. Outside, a crack of thunder proclaims the looming monsoon season. 

  
  


“Rain.” Jaehyun whispers, smiling as he stirs his tea. “The King loved the rain very much.” He states, to no one in particular, Doyoung slightly creeped out as he watches the guard drink the last drop of his tea. 

 

“It’s perfect.” The guard comments as he stands up. Whether he is speaking of the weather or the tea or how he’s doing, Doyoung doesn’t know, but he would like to take it as a compliment. His tea making skills are after all, not so bad, if he could say so himself. 

 

They walk to the cross section between four sections of the palace, Doyoung having to move straight ahead to the south corner of the enormous royal grounds, while Jaehyun will move West, to his quarters. 

 

Jaehyun turns to Doyoung and gives him a small smile. 

 

“Thank you for all that you have done for our prince.” Doyoung merely nods in reply, unsure of how to reply. 

 

Jaehyun takes out something from his pocket. Two things, actually. One, is a jade pendant, carved on it, two tigers. “When this is all over, give this to the prince. A present from the King and I, to him. A congratulatory gift, for his coronation.” 

 

Despite the drip drops of torrential rain, Doyoung can clearly hear Jaehyun’s every word, and smiles at how the other talks of their future victory with such conviction. 

 

Jaehyun’s fingers brush against his as he passes him another item along with the jade pendant. 

 

It is a red ruby studded dagger in its sheath, the details so intricate, it must have been made by the talented royal blacksmiths. Doyoung marvels at the work, and tells Jaehyun so. He laughs and agrees, confirming Doyoung’s guesses. 

 

“It is the dagger made for King Taeyong’s bodyguard. Pass this to Johnny, for me.” He says this softly, Doyoung almost unable to catch his words, but one look on Jaehyun’s face, and he understands the meaning. 

 

Jaehyun gives him a light nod, before walking in the rain, completely unafraid of the raging storm around him, his back so calm and confident, as he strides through the grounds, the pelting raindrops and frightening lightning strikes never fazing him. Doyoung says a silent thanks, before trudging back to his quarters, trying hard to avoid the puddles of water, his mind heavy with thoughts. 

  
  
  


He keeps the two gifts warm and safe in his drawers. He will only give them to the two recipients, when the time comes; if it does. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Johnny returns to the tower, only to see the candle in the lamp on the platform above, still burning, a figure hunched over the words. The window is opened, and the rains pour in, the two cats sitting on the bed, licking themselves, unconcerned of the world beyond their little home. 

 

Johnny sighs as he pulls the window closed, and then wished he hadn’t, because the silence is deafening and suffocating him. 

  
  


Ten can hear Johnny come back, and he knows the window has closed. He doesn’t turn around, nor acknowledges the other. He already knows the outcome of all this. Johnny still chooses him. But he isn’t happy about it, and Ten doesn’t quite know what to do, so the brush on paper doesn’t pause for a minute. 

  
  


He hears the bed below him creak, and swallows the tears that still manage to smudge the ink of paper. He closes his eyes, and tries to breathe, but the voices in his head will not keep quiet. He tries to count to a hundred, but still to no avail. Somewhere between that, his aching heart, and the cool weather, he has shut his eyes, wishing to never wake up. 

 

He only vaguely registers someone sighing in his ear, carrying him downstairs bridal style. There is warmth pressed on his side, but they are not him. He, sleeps on his own bed. 

 

For the first time in a long while, Ten sleeps alone, and the only thing he registers, is his silently breaking heart. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


The bloodbath begins; Johnny’s keen ears pick up the loud cries of battle, even though the northern wing is nearly a kilometer away. He stands near the window, eyes watching fire engulf some buildings, smoke tainting the clean sky. He can already hear the murmurs from the marketplace, the ruckus just outside of the marketplace. 

 

Ten has made it very clear, that the gates shall be shut very tightly, to prevent anyone from escaping, but also, to keep the bloodshed within the palace walls itself. Doyoung had protested and rolled his eyes when Ten requested that should the royals surrender without any form of resistance, they shall live. 

 

“It would cause more problems, prince.” Doyoung patiently tries to explain once again. 

 

“They are people too. Some are puppets of others. Should innocents pay for the price they never should pay?” Kun retorts in Ten’s place. 

 

“This is why you are my favourite, Noble Kun.” Ten says pointedly, and Doyoung merely rolled his eyes, throwing his hands in exasperation. “Well, don’t come crying when a rebellion starts against you, my prince.” In which, he got a hit on the head from Johnny who stares at him, annoyed. 

  
  


The trio are now in the tower; Doyoung joined Johnny at the window, watching the troops invade, raid and burn those filthy royals to death; Kun is keeping tight track of the buildings burnt and where their flag, one with a pair of twin tigers, is placed, marking the areas that are safely under their control. Ten sits at the long table laid out in the middle of the room, sitting, frowning, thinking. 

 

Tension still exists between the prince and his guard, but now, everyone’s focus is on the internal war, though Ten still wishes Johnny would place his fingers on his shoulders and massage the tight knots out of him. He really needs it, as stress sets into his system, flowing through his blood when Doyoung lets out a groan, commenting of how Commader Dong is having a hard time trapping the royals in, a few slipping out. 

 

Johnny’s gaze is fixed on the eastern gates, where Jaehyun’s troops were busy trying to slice the heads of those ninjas the officials have hired, trained assassinators that have no grief, sorrow nor guilt in their hearts, and would kill without a blink of the eye. 

 

The battle is tough, Johnny can see, shouts filling the air, arrows flying everywhere, the mass of people indistinguishable as they clash, swords occasionally slicing through flesh. Johnny prays Jaehyun is alright. He trusts his friend’s abilities, but he still can’t help but worry. 

 

“The northern wing looks calmer. The flag!” Doyoung points and Kun rushes to see, their flag, with a pair of beautiful intricate tigers painted on it raises high and flies proud, a chorus of victorious shouts echoing as a rapid knock sounds. 

 

Commander Dong comes in, radiant, smiling, as he reports the victory. Kun immediately follows him to sort out the criminals, the captured, what to do with the treasures, what to do with the servants etc etc. Details that Kun only has the heart to care for. Commander Dong also reported that Commander Nakamoto has mobilised his troops to the eastern side to help Imperial Guard Jung. 

 

Doyoung smiles in approval and Ten sends his thanks, promising a high reward. 

 

Commander Dong immediately kneels, one knee down, head bowed. “I must refuse, your Majesty. I did this, because I should do so, for my King.” Ten gives him the poised smile, the one full of authority as he rises Sicheng, nodding his head in approval. 

 

Johnny however, does not share the celebratory atmosphere. He knows too well what early celebration means. His well trained mind does not rest, nor does his heart calm down; not until the war is entirely over. There is no news, nor a flag since the battle in the eastern wing began five hours ago. His palms sweat as he gets anxious. 

  
  


Another rapid knocking, and the door opens to the small boy who immediately drops to his knees. 

 

“Your...Your Majesty,” He stutters, “I, I would like a word with Guard Seo please. A message, from Guard Jung, and Commander Nakamoto.” 

 

“Please,” Ten says, getting up from his seat. 

 

Donghyuck’s eyes run wild, and although afraid of those piercing eyes, he still sends his message. “They….They say it can only be for Guard Seo, your Majesty.” 

 

Johnny finally turns around, and walks towards Donghyuck, placing an arm around the younger, ignoring the annoyed gaze of Ten’s and the worried glances from Doyoung, whose eyes keep shifting between the battlefield, and the commotion in front of him, unsure of what to make of it. 

  
  


Donghyuck whispers into his ear, fast and rapid, and though Ten has many animalistic characteristics, his senses far more heightened and sharper than any other human, he can’t hear a word from those murmuring, only gauging the information from the expression of the two. In which, he just sees Johnny’s eyebrows knit a little tighter, jaw clenching just a little more, details that no one else would have picked up. 

 

“What is it?’ Ten can’t contain his curiosity, and breaks the message, Donghyuck shrinking at the sharp tone. Johnny closes his eyes, and brushes his hair out of his eyes. “Prince, may I request to leave-” 

 

“No.” Ten says flatly, turning his back towards them. “Guard Seo, no.” Johnny gives a sound of frustration which serves to make Donghyuck even more tense. “Er...Guard Seo, than it is fine, I don’t think-” 

 

“For god’s sake, Ten!” Johnny cuts Donghyuck off. “The northern side is secured. Anyone on their way to harm you is stuck at the eastern wing. I’m going, and you can behead me after this, I don’t care.” Johnny speaks out of turn, but he doesn’t give a damn as he grabs his helmet and his sword, running after Donghyuck as the younger leads him to the eastern wing. 

 

Ten watches them cross the field below them, every single argument ready to be spilled and cursed at Johnny. Doyoung is by his arm, trying to calm him down, but nothing will. Fear is seeping into Ten’s heart as he watches Johnny meet his first opponent some 30 metres on his way, clashing swords with a man clad in black. He turns away from the window, trying to calm his palpitating heart. 

  
  
  
  
  


But he is too late. Despite Guard Jung’s desperate call for help and back up, there seems to be no way around the absence of casualties. When Yuta arrived, half his troops were dead, bleeding on the field, he himself having a difficult time as he tried to fight off five soldiers at once. They had miscalculated and placed too much importance on the northern wing, forgetting how skillful the bodyguards the officials with their dirty conscience hired, are. 

 

Yuta had only brought about 50 men with him, the rest under Commander Dong as they seeked to put out fires, and return some sort of normalcy at the rest of the palace. Yuta himself, began to feel the pressure and heat as he saw his most skilled soldiers having a hard time slicing the necks of those hired killers. 

 

They managed somehow, covered in hot blood and cuts, eyes wild and brimming of tears, nostrils filled with the smell of burnt iron and perpetual death. 

 

By the time Johnny had arrived, Yuta had just raised the flag of theirs, the floors running crimson from men in black, faces covered, unnamed subordinates, as well as their own, in their hefty armour and proud badge of the white tiger. Johnny catches Yuta’s eye, and one look at the stricken, tired expression of helplessness, he already knows. 

 

Still, despite the rising bile, he runs to find his friend, and he finally does. 

 

Kneeling next to the dead body, still warm with life and the battle, it seemed unreal. 

 

Jaehyun’s face is full of cuts, his armour ripped open in the middle as a sword that had sunk in and pulled out, coats it in crimson, dark red. His lips are pale and his eyes dead, and Johnny closes his own eyes as his fingers shakily close that of Jaehyun’s, tears slipping down his cheeks as his head is bowed, and his shoulders shake, and he cries in silent grief for his friend. 

 

Nothing hurts more than the way Jaehyun had gripped the papers in his hand, hard evidence for the conviction of the corrupted, the paper having creases. Despite the rest of his body, and surrounding area filled with crimson, Jaehyun had taken care, to not stain the parchment at all. He must have died for these papers; a service to the late king, a service to his prince. 

  
  


Yuta and Donghyuck watch from a distance, their helmets held down, as they paid respects to the late King’s guard. 

 

He was a brave soul, who would give anything for his friends and the people he loved. A soul that did not deserve to die like this, a crude sword plunged into his flesh as he tried to fight off the pain, stumbling as he swung his sword recklessly, before black filled his vision, and blood seeped out of him, drenching the floors with sorrow. 

 

How cruel, politics could be, that the innocents have to pay for a price they never should pay. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


Doyoung watches the flag with one tiger rise from the eastern wing, a small white flag tagged with it . He sighs, heart heavy as he thinks of the strong man he watched walk through the rain, without a fear for the world, now probably dead, body brutally mutilated, nothing but flesh and dust. How fickle life can be, fleeting and light. 

 

He unwraps the jade pendant and wordlessly passes it to Ten who is numb with shock, watching the flag fly high in the clean blue skies, fluttering gently with the wind, so peaceful, as if the worst tragedy did not just happen. 

 

He buries his face in his hands, guilt building in his heart, the voices in his head noisy and fussing, blaming him cruelly for _ everything.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yIkEs scream at me on [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me)


	8. 8. 3725 THIS IS HOW WE HEAL

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we are nearing the end!!!! i love this fic so much, i'll probably do more royal aus in future....i love this universe a lot, even though it may not have received as much attention as my other fics. still!!! thankyou for all the comments and kudos :))) and keep reading to find out more!! 
> 
> hmu on  
> [tumblr](https://tenecity.tumblr.com/)  
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/tenecty)
> 
> and ask me questions about the plot or characters or anything really, on [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me)

_8 **. 3725 THIS IS HOW WE HEAL**_

 

 

 

Another funeral, another seven days. 

 

Johnny brushes his friend’s face, now cold to the touch, rigid and fake, empty of life. Doyoung and Kun place dried protea flowers on the crossed hands. The doctors have done a fantastic job, covering up the ugly wounds, cleaning the cuts on the porcelain face. The prince, now coronated as King, watches the procession from his seat, his face though bland, his heart aches for the man that loved and took care of his brother so much. 

  
  


It is funny, how the palace works. One day, the coronation, festivals with colourful silks and flowers adorning every corner of the place, jewels decorate everywhere, people wearing false smiles, and then the next, they were stripped and the palace became dull, sorrow hanging on the stale air, cries filling the air. 

 

Time has no place in the palace. It means nothing. 

  
  
  
  


They have moved the new King to his new quarters, taking his brother’s place. There is no time to rest or wallow in sorrow; not for the King at least. The day the funeral ended, a court meeting was held as new officials and ministers were appointed, new policies released and medals of honour were presented. 

  
  


Kun became the Minister of Foreign Affairs, dealing with the diplomatic issues, learning languages in his free time, becoming so fluent in Thai and Persian and of the sort, that his name became known wide and far, many other diplomats approaching him, an alliance or treaty in hand, interested in the knowledgeable man. The kingdom agreed, that it was wise to put him in his rightful place. 

 

Doyoung became the Imperial Secretary, reading scroll after scrolls of requests, often visiting the King’s office into the wee hours of the morning as they discussed the pressing issues and the progress of their nation. 

  
  


Under Ten’s rule, the people came to life, no longer plagued by poverty or diseases or forced prostitution. They loved their King, always throwing flowers or giving him little things to eat as he visits the villages once in a while, expressing his genuine gratitude to them. Despite his young age, he knew how to empathise and was eloquent in speech, yet keeping things simple enough for the villagers to understand him, making small talk with the aim for finding out new problems to solve. 

  
  


The trading route was opened, now known as the Silk Road, and China’s economy boomed as the money rolled in, people from all over, congregating at the hub of trading, coins clanking against each other in huge bags of money. Spices, animals and people that were never seen before, were witnessed by the people, and things improved so rapidly, the older generation could hardly imagine this to be true; that ten years ago, they were begging on the streets or were forced to sell their children; and now, they sit comfortably in tea houses, chattering about the smallest, trivalest things that never mattered. 

  
  


Commander Nakamoto was appointed the role of the Grand Commandant, and Commander Dong, as the Commandant of Guard, both working together to train a strong army, that would sometimes parade into the streets, giving the locals a sense of security, and instill in the foreigners, a little fear. 

 

The trio, now known as the Golden Tiger Triplets, created a new system; China’s empire ran large and far, and they have decided to split it into districts, having a specific, government sent body, to govern over each district. It makes things more complicated, but the regular checks for transparency put the officials in their place. 

  
  


Officials committing treason or embezzlement, or engaging with illegal activities, were publicly hanged and their heads left on the sharp poles that were plunged into the soil in a no man’s land, a timely reminder for anyone who went against the law. 

 

The people loved them,  _ praised _ them. Schools rapidly being set up, meant more access to education; and the farmers were more than happy to have their children sent to the common schools, schools placed in the middle of a few farmlands, making it easy for the children to have access to books and knowledge. 

 

Old men sat and easily laughed, no longer frowns etching their foreheads as they bragged of their sons, now no longer farmers, but businessmen; handling accounting and selling rice, heads too full of knowledge, they forget their origins. 

  
  
  


It is the same in the palace. Outside, all seemed well. Ten had the favour of most officials and ministers, and they in turn, were loyal to him, and worked their hardest, and in turn, they were handsomely blessed with money or any sort of finances.

 

But on the inside, rumours and gossip were brewing. It has been six years, and  _ still _ , the King has not married, nor requested for concubines. Every time the topic was mentioned, it was always dismissed, placed secondary to the commoners’ needs and societal issues. This was understandable, back in the day, when the problems fested everywhere. But now, the kingdom is at peace, the money is rolling in, the people are prospering and happy: there should be some time dedicated to the customs. 

  
  
  


“Your Majesty, you really  _ do _ need to consider taking in a concubine or two,” Kun begins smoothly. The three of them had gathered in the room, sharing a cup of tea during the late nights. They hardly saw each other, much less shared tea leisurely, so Ten was always grateful when the two knocked on his door — or rather, barging in without much notice, the guards letting them do so. 

 

“I don’t want one,” Ten replies smoothly, sipping the jasmine tea.

 

“Well, it doesn’t  _ matter _ if you want one, it’s the fact that you  _ need _ one. What about your heir? Children? When the people are fed, they turn hungry for gossip, and we do not want any rumours that would destroy your reputation, my King.” 

 

Doyoung, in all his years as a high ranking official, still never quite learnt how to speak simpler and with less edge. His words are never minced and are still cutting, though toned down very much, as compared to his earlier years, where ministers were outraged by his imprudence. It took a couple of books to hit his head, and a constant Kun to nag, for Doyoung to learn how to change. 

  
  
  


Kun looks around the room. There was no one else in it. Even though Ten is King, rules are rules, and Johnny could no longer sleep in the same quarters as the King, and instead, was given the room that once belonged to Jaehyun. 

  
  


Johnny and Ten never spoke about the death of Jaehyun, nor of the unspoken grudge Johnny held against the new King. They could no longer share that intimacy as they did when Ten was prince, and although Johnny never openly said so, Ten knew he wanted time to heal, time to reduce the grudge in his heart. 

 

So, he didn’t push for the guard, and neither did the guard come forward for a reconciliation. The tension, though dissipated, left its cold trail between the two of them. It’s lonely, having no one to play with the cats with him, or visit the mountains to see the tigers. What is even emptier, is his heart, because the space set aside for Johnny, had been abandoned in dust. 

  
  


Johnny knows death is bound to occur, and that Jaehyun’s death was not caused by Ten. Still, somewhere in his heart, he keeps dreaming of the scenario, in which he and Jaehyun fought on the field, side by side. Things may have turned out differently, and this is what Johnny wants to say, but can not, because his master is now a King, and he can not cross him. 

 

It is what Ten  _ knows _ Johnny wants to say, but does not force the latter to do so, knowing how  _ guilty _ Johnny feels about thinking in such a way. Also, because his own guilt is building in his heart, a constant thorn to pinch him when his heart is too satisfied and happy. 

 

This, however, is what makes Ten want to work harder. To make the deaths worth it. To make it equivalent. 

 

But does it really weigh equally? Was it worth the price? No one can answer the question with a definite answer.

  
  
  
  
  


“Is this about Johnny?” Kun asks, once he is sure there is no one eavesdropping. 

 

“What?” Ten chokes out, tea spitting all over Doyoung, the other glaring at him as he takes some napkins to clean his garments. 

 

“We all know you’re in love with him.” Doyoung says through gritted teeth as he curses under his breath, the tea staining his robes. 

 

“Am  _ not. _ ” Ten whines, bewildered, a slight bit terrified. 

 

“Come  _ on _ , even during the most happiest of celebrations, you don’t look entirely happy,  _ especially  _ when you see that sour look on that guard’s face.” Doyoung retorts, rolling his eyes. Did they really think these details would escape his and Kun’s eyes? 

 

“Look-” 

 

“But you two have hardly talked to each other for six  _ bloody _ years, I’m getting tired of hearing your whines and complains, my King, please,  _ spare _ me.” Doyoung continues sarcastically, rapidly drinking tea like it’s wine. 

 

“You may have kept him by your side during the war, but in the end,  _ you still lost him _ didn’t you?” Doyoung continues to prod, and Ten slams his palms down on the table, glaring at Doyoung. “Be  _ quiet _ , Imperial Secretary,” he warns through gritted teeth, but Doyoung stares back unamused, and in fact, more annoyed than ever. 

  
  


He was tired of seeing Ten pretend he is okay as he sits on the emperor’s throne, as if he didn’t sleep a wink last night, whimpering in the darkness, blabbering nonsense, and yet, because of his grudges or pride, he refuses to ask for Johnny to come in and comfort him. Ten may seem strong, powerful, and charismatic on the outside, but the voices in his head have yet to stop.

 

They have quietened, and Ten thought that he had finally got rid of them. But then, during the deepest darkest of the nights, owls hooting, his brother’s death, Jaehyun’s death, his mother’s death all haunting him, he thinks perhaps he will just have to accept that they are a part of him now, for the rest of his life. 

 

He will either succumb to their evilness, or choose to hold out and live with it. He tries to choose the latter, but without Johnny during the night to press his forehead against his, and match their breathing, it has been progressively difficult to do so. 

 

In the early years, it was easier. So much work to do, he hardly had time to rest, and when he did, he knocked out solid and good. But in recent years, with prosperity comes less work and more ease; there is more time to overthink, more time for the voices to overwhelm his mind, and thus harder. 

  
  


Johnny, was another problem in itself. Doyoung lost count of the number of times he had to spend his late hours (which could be spent sleeping, but instead he is here, in Johnny’s room, because he is a good friend, mind you), listening to Johnny rant about the unknown hurt and anger in his heart, the grudges he wish would disappear, the wounds he wished would heal; but it is not so simple. 

 

He would never forget the look on Johnny’s face, when he silently passed the dagger, that Jaehyun had tasked him to give, over to Johnny. The heartbreak was so obvious, Doyoung’s own cold, usually non-existent heart was breaking. It was the rare times Johnny began to shed tears, and it is exactly because he so rawly and openly expressed emotion to Doyoung, did they become closer.

 

The nightmares Ten have are similar to Johnny’s; because above all else, Johnny blames himself for not being able to save Jaehyun. No matter how many times Doyoung has to repeat that it is not his fault and things like this  _ do _ happen, especially in the palace, Johnny still manages to drown in self guilt even though there is a life buoy next to him. 

 

Another thing, is that Johnny constantly talks about how ‘unusual’ it is to like another man, and Doyoung is beyond exasperated, that a grown man like Johnny has the audacity to question his sexuality. No matter how many times Doyoung tries to tell Johnny that it is okay, the other is still very much afraid of what others think of him; and to be honest, it is frustrating, even though that in itself may sound evil, selfish and thoughtless. 

 

It is frustrating, because while Johnny is completely fine and in fact happy for couples like Yuta and Sicheng, or Jaehyun and Taeyong, he didn’t seem to apply those same standards to himself. To him, he was unusual, not normal. When it comes to others, it’s completely, wonderfully, wholesomely correct and fine. 

  
  


Doyoung is tired beyond measure; he has so much on his plate, and here his two friends were, in need of help, in need of each other, and yet they refuse to call out to the other, just because of their pride, their ego, their hurt, the walls that they have put up. 

 

Doyoung is even considering changing imperial guards, because of how awkward the two are. He can’t guarantee the King’s safety with such non-professionalism from both sides, with personal feelings involved; and he tells this to Ten. 

 

“Imperial Secretary  _ Kim Doyoung, _ I swear-” 

 

“My King, with  _ all  _ due respect, he can hardly  _ touch _ you without worrying, or you flinching. How do you expect me to not worry about your safety? If you want him to stay, I suggest you figure this out.  _ Now.” _ And with a sweep of his navy blue robes, he exits the room in a huff, Kun right at his heels, shrugging. 

  
  


Doyoung has been Ten’s rock through everything; acting as the mum he never had during his growing up years. He can’t even retaliate or retort, because Doyoung says  _ everything _ with so much authority and  _ sense _ , it is hard to argue back, and even harder to not do as he says. 

  
  
  
  
  


Hence why now, in the darkness, the wind mysteriously blowing the fluttering curtains, candles burning low, and him shivering in the cold and something causing a chill to run up his spine, he calls for the eunuch outside his room, to call Johnny in. 

 

He lies in his bed, eyes closed as he tries to concentrate on evening his breathing and clearing his thoughts; but there in the darkness, the voices filled the empty spaces. 

 

_ It’s your fault. _

 

_ If you haven’t been so selfish, and let Johnny go, Jaehyun may have still been alive.  _

 

_ Taeyong was such a good king, an excellent one. Smart, cool headed, eloquent. You are nothing like him.  _

 

_ Johnny’s never going to come back, why bother to call him?  _

 

_ Why still ask for him, when he hates you?  _

 

_ Have you seen the way- _

 

The thoughts are interrupted rudely by the entrance of the imperial guard. He stands at the edge of the chamber, unsure of his place, uneasy footsteps echoing down the hall. He looks curiously at the King’s bed, and thinks the eunuch on duty must have heard wrong; one, Ten looks like he is asleep and two, Ten would never call him. The walls between them are too high for such intimacy. 

 

Still, he calls for him. “Your highness?” He calls, and he hears laboured breathing, a form trying hard to sit up. It is obvious the person is breathing hard, panting almost, hand over his heart, fingers ruffling furiously through his hair. 

 

Johnny, curious, takes a few more steps forward, cautious as he moves, silent like tigers plodding on soft snow, almost unnoticed, but never by their master. Ten turns his head as he watches a hazy image of Johnny walk closer, the curtain over his bed making it hard to see. 

 

“Your Majesty?” The voice, deep, smooth, exactly like how he remembers it to be. Besides the short words and commands they share, they have never spoken much to each other for six years. Six years. That’s a bloody long time. 

 

“Johnny.” He tries to reply, but the voices have their bruising hands on his jugular already, choking him.

  
  


Johnny doesn’t even hesitate; cursed with the blessing of being too kind, he will always provide help whenever needed. He disregards all sort of protocol, and sits on the King’s bed, watching Ten clutch his throat in desperation, breaking out in cold sweat, his breathing stuttering and rapid, uneven and not safe. 

 

He hopes he is doing this right, he hasn’t done this in a long time: He draws closer to the King, gently pressing their foreheads together, removing Ten’s hands from his neck, and intertwine their fingers, feeling Ten’s warmth and the breath fanning over his face, sweat making the skin sticky. 

  
  


“Stay with me, please, my King.” Johnny says softly, as he strokes his thumb over Ten’s knuckles, locking eyes with the wild, lost, hollow ones. Anyone would have been taken aback or afraid of those wild eyes; they were that of a beast. The exact eyes that locked with his brown orbs when Ten strangled Johnny all those years ago. He should be afraid. But he is not, and it is a mystery in itself; Doyoung always says so. 

  
  


Ten’s tears have slowed, and the voices in his head, in competition with the soft voice trying to ground him back to reality. He closes his eyes, and tries hard to concentrate on evening his breathing. He can’t believe he is already 26, the King of a large nation, and yet here he was, still struggling with the demons that haunted him when he was a adolescent;  _ ridiculous. _

 

Johnny could see Ten slowly seeping back, listening to whatever is in his head, and he desperately tries to pull Ten back. He thought Ten had grown out of this; but apparently, these stay for life. 

 

“My King, please, stay with me.” But no matter how soft, no matter how gentle he made it seem, Ten is already lost in his headspace, panting, sobbing, whispering to himself, that ‘ _ it’s not my fault’. _

 

Out of desperation, Johnny falls back to old habits. 

 

“Ten. Ten, please.” He is practically begging right now, watching the other’s face and body expressions, hoping it would change something. 

  
  
  
  


There it is.

 

His name. 

 

No one has called him Ten, not even Doyoung or Kun. It is out of respect for him, but he found himself lost in his King identity, that he forgot who he really is: the boy who grows herbs and knows the secrets of herbal medication, the boy who draws, the boy who reads, the boy who swings from the ceiling like lightweight, the boy who has pet snow white tigers in the southern mountains, the boy who is Ten. 

 

He reaches out to clasp his hands behind Johnny’s neck, crying, but this time, grounded in reality. “Please say it again.” He whispers, as he feels Johnny rub circles around his back, adjusting his head to press his cheek against the side of Ten’s face. Lips touch his ears, and the mellow voice speaks. 

 

“Ten, Ten, Ten. Please stay with me.” 

  
  


He is Ten. He is not his demons, the voices, the King. He is just Ten, human, raw from emotion, vulnerable, strong, smart; Ten. He is the Thai prince of Chinese descent, his mother loved him, as did his southern white tigers. He is the owner of his two beautiful, purebred cats. He is his brother’s beloved sibling; he is who Jaehyun took care of, though subtle, on behalf of the King. 

 

He is Johnny’s prince. 

  
  


They stay like this, till dawn awakes; Johnny repeating the words over and over again, Ten simply soaking his cotton clothes with his tears, mumbling a thousand ‘sorry’s. 

  
  
  


Johnny’s heart breaks at the sight of how tired Ten is, when he finally extracts himself, repeating another ‘sorry’ when he too, sees how tired Johnny is. The maids come in to dress him up, while Johnny watches from the corner. 

  
  


The prince grew up; from a scrawny teenager, to a lean figure. A figure who carried authority in the gracefulness of each step, a figure who could silence the crowd with a finger, as his words spilled from his mouth like water flowing through a river. 

 

Ten is no longer the cold hearted, selfish boy he met all those years ago, not a care for the world. Johnny’s heart always swells with pride when he sees the King, come down from his royal sedan chair, step foot on the dirty streets, touching, holding, smiling at the villagers, who are awestruck by the humbleness of their King. No one has done this before, not even Taeyong, who was once well-revered by the people. 

  
  


Somewhere in his heart, amidst the sorrow and pain, the loss, the holes in his heart that were places for Jaehyun, his mother, his sister, his father, he still found enough strength and love, to still  _ want _ to love Ten, even though to him, it seemed so, so wrong. Doyoung told him many times that there is nothing wrong per say, but still, Johnny can’t help the guilt fill his heart whenever he thinks of Ten in such a way. 

 

Royal robes finished, so was his hair. The King set the new trend of shorter hair, everyone cutting off their pigtails, wishing they would be as handsome as the King himself. Johnny smiles. Ten always did seem to have such an effect on people; making them bend his way.

 

The maids incline their heads slightly to Johnny as they make their way out, leaving the guard and his King alone in the chamber room. 

  
  


“I’m sorry.” Ten says apologetically, biting his lips, eyes wandering. 

 

“My King, you’re the King. You shouldn’t be saying sorry; there is nothing to be sorry for.” Johnny replies as smoothly as possible, as they exit the room, Donghyuck and the other guards watching them curiously, but not saying a word. 

  
  
  
  


And maybe that was all it took; Ten showing his vulnerability, stripped from anything but to his core, and yet Johnny was unfazed by how ugly or tainted the supposed perfect King is. An apology, that was meant for everything: keeping the guard up late at night, to these six years of raw, open wounds, to that time, back all those six years, for his selfish behaviour; and for Johnny to offer a sign of forgiveness. 

 

Maybe this, is how they will finally heal. 


	9. 9. 5077 JUST A LITTLE MORE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: this chapter contains smut, please read at own risk 
> 
> hmu on my [tumblr](https://tenecity.tumblr.com/) (though it's kind of dead now) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/tenecty)  
> ask me questions about the character, plot or anything on [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me) !

_**9\. 5077 JUST A LITTLE MORE** _

 

 

“Well?” Doyoung raises his eyebrows. “Am I not right as always, my  _ beloved  _ King?” Sarcasm and smugness coats his words and Ten glares at him, brush placed back into the ink box.

 

“Be quiet, Imperial Secretary. It’s not like we have done much. All I said, was that  _ maybe _ we have broken down some walls,  _ that’s all. _ ” 

 

Doyoung raises his eyebrows, and hums in reply, a smirk threatening to appear. Kun hits his head with a book, giving Ten a sweet smile. Doyoung rolls his eyes. Traitor. 

 

“Anyways, the AAA is next week; anything you will like me to relay to the other diplomats or officials?” Kun asks, brush already in his hand as he looks at Ten expectedly. The Annual Animal Appreciation event was in place of the Great Hunt; thus promoting the protection and conservation of animals. The Persians and Mongols looked down on this particularly, as they always had a taste for fur, snakeskin and the sort. But in his charismatic, enticing way, Ten won them over and they became the biggest donors in the funds to protect the animals. 

 

Ten had cordoned off an entire area of the valleys and mountains, including his tiger’s den (though he still visits them). The annual event was a feast, the menu completely vegetarian, and a bidding event, for the greatest paintings and pottery all over the world, sold to the richest officials. All proceeds went back to the maintenance and governance of the protected forested area, as well as to funding the army needed to surround it and prevent poachers from entering. 

  
  
  


Ten dresses in his usual royal robes, striding with confidence and grace into the dining hall, where everyone else has already been ushered too. They all rise simultaneously, heads inclined as they greet their king in one, united voice. Johnny walks behind him, trying hard to keep his smile. 

 

Ten takes his seat at the head of the table. The eunuchs and maids were all shocked when he had first requested for one long table; a King should never be seated on the same level as his subordinates. But he insisted and what were they going to say? No? Not to those levelled, piercing eyes. 

 

He raises his hand, and welcomes the guest, his winning, charming smile on his face. Women, were also seated at the table, a rare sight, but Ten insisted that they be treated with equal respect and honour, hence why their seatings. There was no difference between the genders; everyone was to be treated equally. 

 

Johnny watches from the side carefully, specifically, watching Ten, as he always did. They may have kept things businesslike, never a word outside of their roles, but he still watched and observed Ten as he did so many years ago. He has memorised Ten’s features so well, he notices that Ten is only wearing 8 earrings, instead of 11. 

  
  


“Your Majesty, pardon me for asking, but I must request that you have a concubine! It is not fit that the King of such a great empire have no children?” A Persian diplomat asks. He must be half drunk, to ask the King such a bold question. Unfortunately, the table doesn’t quiet down in tension, and instead more officials raise their concerns. 

 

“He is right, your Highness. Now, I have a daughter-” 

 

“No, noble Ying. My  _ niece _ -”

 

“It is not fit for a King to have no wives!” 

 

“Indeed, it is not.” 

 

A chorus of voices ring throughout the table as the nobles noisily discussed this, arguing over whose child is better. 

 

Doyoung glares at the table of rowdy nobles. He clanks his cup with his spoon, and garners their attention.    
  


“Is this the type of behaviour you should show in front of our King? Have you gone mad? Is there not a thing as manners?” He asks, words cutting as the voices die down, and their heads bow, apologies flowing. Kun rubs his temples, while Johnny tries hard to hide his laugh. These nobles, so foolish, so predictable, wanting so hard to please. 

 

“I will not have a concubine, nor a wife. I do not need one. If I hear one more word about this matter, I will-” 

 

“My King, pardon me for asking, but is it because you already have in mind someone?” The drunken noble asks cheekily. This time, his voice rings clear and true, everyone at the table grasping onto their seats, muscles tensing. The question is asked completely out of turn. If Ten wanted, he would have been dead by now. Johnny already has his hand on his sword, ready to place the tip of it, on the man’s neck. 

 

Ten, on the other hand, seems to feel no tension at all, and gives a small, sly smile. “Noble Ying, I had always thought of you as dull, but perhaps not. You are a bright one, because perhaps, you are right.” Murmurs run high in the air as the sickly sweet tone passes through the room like a slow river running over sharp rocks. 

 

Johnny tries not to let his heart lurch and ache, but it does anyway. He looks at Ten, bewildered, as the other two are as well. Doyoung mouths something at him, while Kun simply shakes his head, though his smile is not missed by Johnny. 

 

Ten pushes himself off the table, standing up. The rest of the nobles do so as well, heads bowed, curiosity still hanging heavy in the air. 

 

“Thank you for your company today, ladies and gentlemen. I shall take my leave. Enjoy the rest of your meal.” He says curtly, nodding lip tight as he strides out of the room, Doyoung and Kun following after him in equal coldness. 

 

Unbeknownst to them, someone follows them as well, like a shadow. 

  
  
  


“My King, please, allow me to speak.” A light tone calls from behind, and they all turn. 

 

A woman, in her 20s, approaches them. She is pretty, with a sharp face and large eyes, her lips painted a cherry red, her cheeks dusted with coral pink. She wears one of the finest embroideries of silk, and her feet are small and tiny; a perfect girl. Ten vaguely recognises her as one of the ministers’ daughters. 

 

“Please.” He says, watching the girl. Something about her movement and keen eyes, reminds him of his younger self; only she resembles more of a fox than a kitten. 

 

“Marry me.” She says simply, with those fluttering eyelashes and innocent voice. 

 

Doyoung chokes and Kun just raises his eyebrows as he tilts his head in surprise. Johnny simply watches the girl. She is no simple child. 

 

“I’m serious, my Lord. I do not intend to marry you out of love, no. But the pressure is bound to come, and the people will worry. Rumours of a barren King is certainly not good is it?” She tilts her head, as if waiting for an answer. 

 

“Lady Kim, I don’t-” Doyoung begins, but her silky tone cuts him off. Johnny feels something churn in his gut, and his heart twists, his goosebumps standing. He does not like this woman, and he can tell neither does Doyoung. He steps forward slightly, closer to Ten, fingers just brushing over his dagger. 

 

“You need a queen, it is evident enough, your Highness. My father wants me to marry to some old official and certainly, you do not want that do you? After all your talks about women having to be treated with equal respect, I am basically being sold off. You can save me, and yourself, my King, if you take me as your wife.” 

 

“I am knowledgeable, and I grew up in a good enough family. I know how to sew and paint, and make china. I have studied the law. Have I not met all the requirements for a queen?” Her eyes glint as the sun goes down, making her appear even more dangerous. 

 

Johnny has had enough. This girl is obnoxious, bold, yes, but completely and utterly rude, and he is having none of it. 

 

“Lady Kim, please will you-” 

 

“Oh, be quiet, guard. This is of no talk for you low-bloods.” She says it in such a pure, innocent voice, anyone hearing the tone without the words would think she is the most petite, beautiful thing on earth. 

  
Her malice cuts through Johnny and his words die on his tongue. Of course. This isn’t any of his business. He is just a guard. He could never measure up. He was a descent of a poor scholar. He had no pretty hands, nor pretty face. His brain is not soaked up with knowledge. He does not know how to embroider, make pottery, or paint. He knows  _ nothing. _ Foolish of him to think he and Ten were on par. 

 

Ten steps forward, his face bland and his eyes blank. Inside him, however, rage is boiling, but with six years of practice, he knows how to simmer and control it. 

 

“Lady Kim, that is indeed a wonderful plans of yours. But I suppose that you have forgotten, that your father is on trial for embezzlement, and your good family has a long record of having hunger for power. 

 

“Can I mention how it was your grandfather that insisted my mother be burnt at the stake because she adopted me, in order for your mother to ascend to the throne? The records may have been burnt into ashes, but they are engraved in my heart. 

 

“Now, please, Lady Kim, return to the hall, before I have my guards take hold of you. And may I remind you, that while I agree women should be treated with equal respect, there is no such thing as low-bloods. Treat  _ my guard _ , with respect, please.” He turns, head held high, pleased that he could have delivered it so well, despite the shakiness in his heart. 

 

The woman becomes venom, and her voice leaks with poison. “So the rumours are true.” 

 

They continue to walk on, ignoring her. 

 

“So the rumours are true! You and that guard, have an affair.” Johnny stops dead in his tracks, Donghyuck bumping his face into his armour, wincing in pain. Doyoung whips around, already ready to lash out, but Johnny is faster, the tip of his sword already lined to the core of her neck. His eyes hold nothing, but pure distaste. 

 

“Lady Kim, such words can be used against you as treason and blasphemy. I suggest you take them back.” 

 

The woman merely laughs at this, hysterically in fact, and they stare at her, either amused or frightened. 

 

“So, I am right.” 

 

Johnny doesn’t say anything, his chocolate orbs holding her gaze unwaveringly, his sword moved forward by an inch. He does not deny nor approve of it, because he is unsure of the answer himself. But one thing he knows, is that he can not stand the audacity of this woman, and hates her to the core. He would love to slit her throat, but he is waiting for orders. 

 

“Guard Seo, there is no need to waste your energy on such an imbecile. Let the other guards do it. Send her to the confinement room, I will think of what to do with her later.” Ten calls from behind, two guards already moving forward to chain her wrists, while Johnny slides his sword back in place. 

  
  


Doyoung raises his eyebrows as Johnny walks back to his place. 

 

“What?”Johnny asks, fumes still in his eyes. Doyoung gives a light hearted laugh, patting him on the back, before walking away, the trio walking twice the speed faster, to reach their room and discuss this wholesomely. 

  
  
  


After what seems like hours of teasing, Ten finally manages to throw the two of them out, trying hard to contain his laughter while he rubs his temples in feigned headache. He loves those two, but sometimes they are overwhelming, especially with Doyoung and his way with words. He can never win against Doyoung and with Kun’s betrayal of occasional chime-ins, he felt like he was a prisoner being interrogated. 

  
  
  
  
  


“Why didn’t you deny what she said?” Ten asks, as he watches Johnny strokes Kiet, kissing him softly on the forehead while the cat struggles to leave his arms. He lets him go, and the feline nimbly escapes Johnny’s grasp to hop onto Ten’s bed, slinking into a corner of it, resting on the silks. 

 

“Kiet has gained a lot of weight,” Johnny casually comments, as he calls for Busarkaham, the pure white grudgingly sacrificing herself into the hands of her master. Johnny strokes her fur, his long fingers caressing the silk like hair. She is a beautiful thing. 

 

“A wonder that they did not mate.” Johnny continues as he stares into Busarkaham’s blue eyes, her eyes now becoming slits as the room dims. 

 

“You’re avoiding my question,” Ten points out as he sips some tea. He is no longer in his royal robes, just a simple white robe that has pants underneath the flowing skirt, a matching white belt. 

 

Johnny doesn’t say anything, continuing to rub Busarkaham’s ears in affection. 

 

“Guard Seo.” No response.

 

“Johnny.” 

 

“Okay, okay.” Johnny resigns as he sets the cat back down on the floor, the white too hopping on the bed, but sitting itself on the other end of it, far from Kiet. Probably why they don’t mate. They hate each other’s guts. 

  
  


“What have you been doing these six years?” Ten politely asks as Johnny refills his cup of tea. 

 

Johnny laughs a little at this. “You know, we weren’t completely apart from each other during the six years. But to answer your question, not a lot, my King. Just the usual.” He has dropped the formality; the two of them never had the taste for it after all. 

 

“Still, we…..never really talked much.” Ten says tensely, cringing at how this is starting out. 

 

“My King, it really is not your fault. It is mine. I…..I should be sorry, for being ridiculous and placing the blame on you, when it was never your fault.” 

 

“I could have let you go.” 

 

“I thought about it, and I think I would have been equally grieved if you did, so no, it happened the way it did, as it should.” Johnny replies easily, filling his own cup of tea. 

 

“Don’t blame yourself, my King. You have done nothing wrong.” He says this softly, gently. He hates to see Ten blame himself for things beyond his control. The rate of mortality during any type of war is always at least 50%, so really Jaehyun would have passed on either way. 

  
  
  
  


“You don’t hate me.”

 

Even after all these years, Ten still says this words with so much surprise, that Johnny’s heart clenches, and his throat tightens. 

 

“Why would I?” He replies. The same reply all those years ago, could still be used here. It seems, that some things never change. 

 

“Because I hurt you. Beyond measure.” Ten justifies, swirling the contents of his cup, now not just jasmine tea, but a mingle with his own salty tear drops. 

 

Even after so many years, still, they have this conversation, and Johnny wishes to tell the voices in his head to shut up, and to stop blaming Ten for everything. Still, he has to be honest. Why sugarcoat reality?

 

“You did. But that doesn’t mean I hate you. We are all flawed; I have hurt you too, and you have hurt me. It just takes some time for us to heal, and everything will be fine again.” 

  
  
  


Silence fills the room as the words hang in the air, sinking into Ten’s flesh. 

  
  
  
  


“Do you still…..” 

 

“Yes.” Ten whispers, placing his cup down. The cats look up, slit eyes sharp and luminous in the dark. They can always seem to sense a change in their master. It is like Ten had a way with everything, everything controlled in the palm of his hand.

 

“It is even harder, when you are not around.” 

 

Johnny bites the inside of his cheek, taking in a sharp intake of breath.    
  


“You could have just called me.” 

 

“I couldn’t. You were still…..you were not ready.” 

 

“ _ Ten _ , no matter how I feel, you are  _ my _ King. You come first. You should tell me, please. Next time, please tell me.”

 

“What if I tell you now?” Ten asks, fingers playing with the loose strings of his clothes; he knows Johnny notices and will have it sent to the tailor soon. The other is always so  _ picky  _ about clothing. 

 

He lifts his head up, and his all black irises lock with the brown orbs, and it seems like they are taken back, six years ago, when they first saw each other. The freshness, the newness, the intriguement. The wonder, amusement, awe;  _ how can someone be so perfect? _

 

“I would help you, if you want me too.” Johnny says softly, never breaking his gaze. 

  
  


Ten’s heart is beating like a wild animal in a cage; his breathing quickens and his palms become sweaty. This time, it is not because of the voices in his head, but because of the human, living and breathing in front of him. 

 

The candles luminate Johnny’s face, and he looks perfect; brown hair styled and swept like that; Donghyuck must have put something on the eyes, because they seem more defined, darker and sharper. His eyes travel to the heart shaped lips, and he wonders if they still have the same tenderness as he felt all those years ago.

  
  


“So?” Johnny asks, breaking Ten from his daze. 

 

“So what?” Ten tilts his head and frowns, genuinely confused. Johnny bites his lips in attempt to hide his smile 

 

“So do you want me to hug you now, or later?” He says it so directly, a flush blossoms from the neck up on the fair King’s neck.

 

“Now.” He whispers, and Johnny moves from his chair, arms around the younger. 

 

One hand massages Ten’s neck, the other, running his fingers through the King’s soft locks. The King no longer holds his position, and he becomes Ten again, the person he really is to his core. He buries his face in Johnny’s clothes, breathing in the coffee scent that Johnny had picked up when the Persians came to trade tea leaves for cocoa beans. He had only ever smelt wafts of it, when Johnny passes by, but now, he can fully indulge in it. 

 

Johnny’s thumb strokes from the neck up, carefully caressing the younger’s sharp jaw, tracing his features. Ten closes his eyes and relishes in the gentle, cautious touches. He has missed this, way more than he lets on. 

 

Johnny’s fingers just barely graze over Ten’s lips, and the King opens his eyes, locking with the questioning, brown, stunning eyes. They always held much depth, and Ten loved it. He could stare into them all day, and still never be bored. 

 

Ten closes his eyes and presses into the touches. He can feel Johnny leaning down, and the lightest brush of a pair of heart-shaped lips over his. He whines softly, tugging Johnny’s robes. 

 

“Has no one ever told you? Never test a King’s patience.” 

 

“Or maybe, just yours. You are always so impatient.” Johnny mumbles as he presses a kiss on Ten’s forehead, down the nose, the cheeks, before pressing fully into Ten’s mouth. It is an awkward position, Johnny bending half down to reach Ten’s height when sitting, and Ten laughs at him, Johnny simply glaring affectionately at him. 

  
  


They move to the bed, fingers intertwining as Johnny holds Ten’s hands carefully over his head, still only pressing fleeting kisses over the skin, leaving goosebumps in their trail. When he comes back to ghost his lips over Ten, tingles are already sparking down the other’s spine. 

  
  


“I really missed you.” Ten whispers, lips moving against Johnny’s lips as they form words. 

 

“I’m sorry.” He continues. He can feel tears prick at the corner of his eyes. 

 

Johnny smiles, pressing a kiss at the edge of his jaw. “Nothing to be sorry about, my prince. And for the record, I missed you too.” 

 

“I thought I lost you.” Ten whimpers, eyes squeezing shut. He tries desperately to keep himself together; he hates to ruin a perfect moment. 

 

“Ten, Ten. Shh, hey it’s okay. You would never lose me. Guards never leave their royals. Stay with me, please, Ten.” Johnny whispers in Ten’s ear, his fingers gently caressing the smooth, porcelain skin of Ten’s hands. A light bite on the ear, and a gentle kiss on the piercings, has Ten hurling back into reality, and he tries to keep the sounds rising from his throat, silent. 

 

“You will never lose me, okay?” Johnny assures as he trails kisses down the neck, Ten tilting his head backwards to expose more skin. 

 

“Okay.” He whispers, biting his lips when Johnny nips slightly at the collarbone. “Okay.” 

 

He melts into Johnny’s touch when their lips finally fully slot together, carefully re-exploring each other’s mouths, re-learning everything. Johnny is not even doing much, just a small flick of his tongue, and accidental brush of tongue against tongue, and Ten is already bucking his hips upwards, creating friction between him and Johnny’s thigh. 

 

Johnny releases Ten’s hands, and firmly plants the younger’s hips back down the bed, earning a whine from the royal that has Johnny smiling. “Calm down, Ten, you’re not some horny teenager, are you, now?” The royal hits him with his fists, face burning. “Is that how you talk to a royal?” His words are muffled in the bedsheets and lose their edge. 

 

“But really,” Johnny says as he cups Ten’s face to look straight at him. “I….I don’t know if we can continue this further. I’m not….” His eyes waver and he is unsure, his heart tugging towards Ten’s puppy eyes, but the ‘rationale’ side of his brain is telling him to pull away and stop before he loses control.

 

“Please, Johnny.” Ten whispers against his thumb, and Johnny sighs. He really does want to pull away. “Please,” Ten says as he props himself up, grip on Johnny’s wrist tightening as he presses his hot mouth against Johnny’s chilled neck, tongue dragging downwards, leaving a wet trail that cools in contact with the cold surroundings. 

 

He elicits the proper response he needs, and Johnny practically groans as he sits back, and Ten crawls onto his lap, sitting comfortably, like on the throne he belongs to. Bruising fingers press into Ten’s hips as the other sucks softly on the untainted skin; the other hand tugging slightly on Ten’s hair, subtly pressing Ten’s tongue against his neck. 

 

“You always seem to know how to get around things,” Johnny breathes out as Ten carefully unties Johnny’s robes, letting the material pool to his elbows, exposing the toned, smooth chest. 

 

Ten smugly shrugs. “How do you think I was allowed to have the tower all to myself, and still have the upper room despite the many accidents?” His hot breath fans over Johnny’s skin, but it doesn’t send shivers down the other’s back.

 

“Do you still have any of those….accidents?” Johnny asks softly, his hands now moved from the hair to lightly massage Ten’s neck. 

 

“No. Maybe because I’m a King. I owe a lot to many people. Like you. Can’t be so careless about my worthy life anymore.” Ten says quietly as he presses a quick kiss on Johnny’s lips, before getting to work as he flicks Johnny’s nipple, causing his hair to be tugged. It hurts, but Ten figures he likes it, so he encourages Johnny by sucking on the nub a little harder, smirking as the grip on his hair tightens.

 

He moves to work on the other one, placing dark marks all over, his fingernails scraping Johnny’s abs a little. Johnny shrugs his clothes off, so they pool at his waist instead, allowing Ten to have full access to his stomach, where he leaves fluttering kisses, always moving south. 

 

Small pants leave Johnny now, as he leans his head back, the back of his head knocking against the wooden structure, breathing heavily as he clothes are pulled further down, to reveal him, in only his underwear. 

 

Ten lightly scrapes his teeth over the material, enough to create some tension, but certainly not enough. It takes a lot of control for Johnny to stop his hips from moving. Ten’s fingers trace a trail for his lips to follow over the strong thighs, sucking harshly on the sensitive skin near the groin area, Johnny’s hands flying to pull on Ten’s hair harshly. 

 

He mumbles a sorry as soon as he does so, massaging Ten’s scalp carefully. Ten laughs, and his fingers nimbly remove Johnny’s briefs, to reveal his cock, erect. Johnny turns his face away, embarrassed to see himself already so turned on by the littlest of Ten’s touches. 

 

He feels hands cup his face and he turns his eyes to meet Ten’s. “Can I…?” 

 

Johnny knocks their foreheads together gently, and joins their lips in full approval, Ten shrugging out of his grasp to go back down, as he carefully places the head between his lips, sucking experimentally. Johnny moans, soft and sweet, cautious of the paper thin walls. 

 

Ten then pretty much swallows the rest of it, pressing his tongue flat over the underside of the cock, hollowing his cheeks. He wonders if he is doing right, but the more frequent groans tells him he is heading towards the right direction. He takes in more, until he can feel the tip at the back of his throat, causing him to gag in relex. Immediately, Johnny’s fingers are brushing his lips, telling him it’s okay to stop here. Ten, is, however, a stubborn one, so he ignores Johnny’s request and pushes a little more, repressing the gag reflex, breathing deeply through his nose. 

 

This is the first time Ten hears Johnny curse, and he nearly chokes on the cock, giggles threatening to erupt. If not for Johnny’s deep voice, asking it he could gently thrust into his hot cavern, he would have spluttered and laughed till his sides hurt. 

 

He nods as much as he can, and Johnny pulls out slightly, the feeling of Ten’s lips grazing his cock almost too much to bear. He thrusts back in carefully, moaning at the sweet feeling of it, lightheadedness taking over him. He does so a few times, and Ten can feel blood rushing down, as he watches Johnny squeeze his eyes shut, breaths getting heavier. 

 

By some great self-control intervention, he slips his cock out of Ten’s mouth before he hits his high, panting, as his thumb swipes to collect the dribbling drool and precum collected at the edge of Ten’s mouth and down his chin. 

 

“Okay?” He asks, once he catches his breath, helping Ten to remove his own clothing. Ten nods in approval as he lies back, watching Johnny’s chest heave while he strips Ten down, including his underwear. Ten is beyond ready, rock hard, and he whines when Johnny just barely grazes his fingers over it. 

 

He bites his lips and squeezes his eyes shut when he feels a saliva-coated finger enter into him slowly, the burn a little too much. But he soon gets used to it, and Johnny’s finger brushing over a bundle of nerves sends jolts of fireworks all over his body. He nods rapidly when Johnny asks if he can add a second, already excited beyond belief. 

 

His entire being sinks into bliss as the third finger enters, his head tilted back in guilty pleasure, Johnny’s tongue just running over his piercings while his fingers curl, causing Ten to bite hard on Johnny’s shoulder. 

  
“Sorry,” he breathes out as he tenderly wipes over the tooth marks, only to cause more marks as his hand grips on the shoulder, hard,when Johnny pulls his fingers away, coating his cock with precum, causing Ten to whine high and clear. 

 

“Got to keep quiet, prince. Can’t have them hearing you, can we?” Johnny reprimands him gently, as he pushes in, Ten squeezing his eyes shut, sighing replacing the high moans stuck in his throat. Once Johnny has fully seated himself in, does Ten open his eyes blearily, locking with the brown irises. Something about the lust running deep, shatters him completely, and despite previous warnings, he moans softly, wrapping his hands around Johnny’s neck to bring his closer. 

 

It’s a good thing Ten had training from twirling around in the air for all those years, and had the gracefulness and agileness of a tiger; otherwise he would have torn his muscles by now, Johnny pressing his knees up his chest as he thrusts slowly but surely. Too hard and fast would create way too much obscene sounds; and as much as he would like to indulge in Ten, there is no way he is going to pollute Donghyuck’s ears. 

 

They continue to like this, chest to chest, lips ghosting each other, tension building ever so slightly but sweetly. 

 

“I love you.” Ten says softly, his words intertwined with a small whine at a particular thrust that hit dead on his prostate. 

 

“I love you too.” Johnny says quietly, more to himself than ever. Doyoung is right; all he needs, is confidence, and the assurance that Ten loves him, and nothing will stand in his way of fully accepting himself, of accepting his emotions, of accepting the truth: that he is, fully and completely, in love with the King. 

 

One last thrust sends the both of them toppling over the edge, Ten clamping his teeth down on Johnny’s shoulder in a silent scream, the groan Johnny sends down his ear only prolonging his high. 

  
  


Eventually, Johnny pulls out, and quickly grabs a bowl of water and cloths to clean them up, before Ten falls to sleep. In some ways, the younger was still very much like the eighteen year old child when Johnny first met him; innocent, pure, childlike. Endearing. Johnny helps Ten put on some clean clothes, and grabs some for himself, before diving under the covers to snuggle next to Ten, breathing out contentedly as Ten’s breath fans over his neck.  

 

The two cats had the sense to move out of the bed during this time, and instead, for the first time in eight years, shared their designated corner, already fast asleep. 

 

Johnny strokes Ten’s face, pressing a kiss into the sweat-matted hair. Even like this, gross, full of sweat, body hot; despite the multiple flaws Ten had, he still finds himself falling in love over and over again, just as he did, all those years ago. Time seems to mean nothing, not with the royal around. 

 

One last kiss on the forehead, and he too falls into slumber, Doyoung just ‘passing’ outside the door, smiling like a fool. 

 

Today, happiness fills the night. 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the last and final chapter is here!! o(╥﹏╥)o i love this royal universe very much sooo...... i have a sequel to this!   
> which you will have to find out after reading this chapter hehe
> 
> anyways, thankyou all for your kudos and comments; it really warms my heart to see everyone loving this fic and this universe so much dasjdalksjh i rlly had some doubts doing this and was a little hesitant, given how little i know of the actual historical bckgrounds etc/how things worked in the past.
> 
> this is also one of the longest fics i've written, at a whooping 34k+ anddd the first smut i hve ever written, in this fic so i'm pretty happy about it ( ^▽^)σ)~O~)
> 
> hmu on my [tumblr](https://tenecity.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/tenecty)
> 
> and ask me questions on the characters [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me) (honestly though, hands down this fic's doyoung is my all time favourite character; i didn't even intentionally make him, his personality just led me through this adskhjahdls I LOVE HIM)

_**10\. 3575 I WILL ALWAYS STAY, BY YOUR SIDE** _

 

 

 

The first thing Johnny sees when he opens his eyes, is the sight of Doyoung and Kun looking curiously down at him, and he curses at the two nobles, burying his head in the pillows. 

 

Doyoung straightens his back, and his face paints a smirk. “Well, good morning to you too, Guard Seo. It is 8 o’clock, and you are both late.” 

 

“I, however, am the most wonderful Imperial secretary of all time, and excused the servants, thus personally bringing your breakfast to you, no, there is no need to thank me.” He dramatically states as he waves his hand and has the audacity to feign a blush. 

 

Johnny rolls his eyes and glares at Doyoung, head tilting towards the King who is still fast asleep. 

 

Doyoung, however has other plans in mind, and picks up a gong he ridiculously brought along, clanking it loud and clear, Johnny propping himself up in surprise and tries to cover the King’s ears, but of course, to no avail. The King lets out a groan and a curse, which sends Kun into fits of giggles. 

 

“That’s right, rise and shine my King! Time for your visitations; you know how Sicheng hates people who are late.” 

 

Ten just groans in reply as he buries his face into the pillows, arms looping around Johnny’s waist, squeezing his hips in attempt to pull him closer. “Just one more minute.” He mumbles into the sheets. Johnny gives Doyoung a pointed a look, and with a dramatic sigh of defeat, he raises his hands in surrender and drags Kun behind him, but not without a stern, “we really need to get going. Five minutes!” 

 

Johnny chuckles softly at his friends, and then turns his attention to Ten. The morning rays glow softly on the King’s clear, glass like skin, nose slightly parted, eyelashes so long and dark, he could count them individually. Johnny softly runs his fingers over them, earning a whine from Ten as he opens his eyes slowly, lips quirking up in a small smile. 

 

“Morning.” Johnny says softly, bending down to press a kiss on Ten’s forehead. “How are you feeling?” 

 

“My entire body aches.” Ten complains, attempting to get up, but failing to do so. His lower back hurts with a dull ache. It sends shivers down his back as he recalls the night before, and his cheeks flush. A small chuckles sounds from above him and he glares at his guard affectionately, as Johnny pulls him to a sitting position, Ten pulling him back and snuggles into his neck, ignoring the protests from the guard. 

 

“As much as I would love to stay like this,” Johnny begins, sighing as he presses an irresistible kiss on Ten’s lips, soft and a sweet aftertaste, “We can’t be late for the village visitations, okay?” Ten rolls his eyes and huffs in annoyance, untangling himself as he demands for his clothes. Johnny relents, his own heart yearning to just stay in bed all day, but duty calls, so he brings the robes over, warm cloth cleansing Ten’s skin, before the heavy silk falls on the milky-white flesh. 

  
  


They are out of the room in ten minutes, and Doyoung still has the audacity to chide them, Ten dully instructing Johnny to slice his neck, a small smile tugging at his lips. 

  
  


They parade out, Ten and his guards, together with a chatty Doyoung and a Kun who looks wonderfully happy. Ten nudges at his scholar, who simply tells him, “I’m just happy for you.” Ten doesn’t know whether to cry or laugh, but he keeps his composure, throat tightening as he nods, Kun completely understanding his meaning. 

 

They travel to one of the villages just outside the capital, where some fragments of poverty still remain. Doyoung detaches himself from his playful personality, and turns serious as he mutters with the chief and other village heads, Ten nodding solemnly as he listens to them explain their problems and worries. Villagers had gathered outside the village chief’s house, necks craning, still amused and awed that a King would even let his golden slippers touch their muddy grounds. 

 

In the middle of explaining how the flood had damaged their crops, a small boy, breathless, bursts into the compound, shouting illegibly. The King and the nobles may not know what it means, but Johnny knows it full clear, credit to his years on the streets: there was a fight for sure, serious enough, deadly enough, that someone should call for intervention. 

 

Johnny places a protective hand over Ten as he insisted on going to take a look, the guards and nobles having to thus come along as they followed the villagers, hot on their heels. The alley was narrow, but it was obvious there was serious trouble. Blood stained the streets as boys, no older than teenagers, pointing jagged wood, and poles at each other, shouting vulgarities. 

 

Johnny’s sharp eyes immediately search for the one thing he would always look out for: the pack’s leader. Flush that one out, the rest will dissipate. He sees the boy, no older than eighteen, sitting on a stack of crates. His face is sharp and gaunt, high cheekbones and hollow eyes; a sign of death over his face as he jumps down from where he stands. 

 

He pays no heed to the growing crowd surrounding them, as the rest of the members flee behind him for protection. He walks with grace and ease, smoothness that reminds Johnny of Ten; and he recognises the boy’s talent as soon as he swings the pole, his opponent just barely missing it. 

 

The village chief immediately calls to halt them, the opponent turning around, and one gaze at the crown on Ten’s head and he goes scurrying off —or rather, limping off.

 

The village chief frowns and sighs as he walks towards the boy, telling him off. 

 

“How many times must I tell you, that you don’t have to engage in every single fight?” He glares at the boy, fury fuelled when he is simply met with blank, hard eyes. 

 

There is no need for words, and Johnny can already sense what Ten wants to do. 

 

“Allow me, my King.” He whispers, and leaves the King’s security to Sicheng, while he strides forward, eyes locking with the boy’s. 

 

“What is your name?” He asks, and the village chief whips around, expression immediately softening as he bows his head. “Imperial Guard, there is no need-” 

 

“Mark.” The boy answers. The hard look in his eyes are now replaced by curiosity instead, his pole lowered as he stares back, unafraid. “And who are you?” The imprudent, direct question earns him a hit on his head from the chief, who apologises profusely on his behalf. “Forgive him, my lord. He is an orphan, with no father nor mother to teach him proper manners.” 

 

Johnny frowns. “I too, am an orphan, village chief. Are you saying I too, have no manners?” He raises his eyebrows at the flustered man, vaguely hearing a snicker behind him. “I….I do not mean-” 

 

“Where did you learn how to fight with such grace?” Johnny asks, gently, ignoring the village chief, who is trying hard to keep his glowering anger masked. 

 

Mark shrugs, carelessly turning his pole from one hand to the next. “Got to learn if you want to live on the streets.” Johnny nods in reply. 

 

“Now, Mark, care to have a cup of tea with us? I will like to ask you a few questions, if you don’t mind.” Johnny proposes, watching the boy carefully. He can see curiosity and a hint of excitement, though cleverly masked behind a nonchalant facade. The boy shrugs again, and they end up in the tea house, learning more of this skilled teenager. 

  
  


After a long talk, mostly filled with assumptions Johnny makes, and conclusions from Mark’s short, curt answers and nods, he reports to the King that the boy is an orphan when he was six, was taken in by a gang who got wiped out during the purges, and is currently living on the streets, under the care of the village chief, who despises him. 

 

“I do not despise him, my lord.” The chief says with a huff. Perhaps not, but there is certainly some tension here. Mark rolls his eyes, but says nothing. 

  
  


“You have raw talent, my boy. If I asked you to come to the palace to properly train, would you accept the offer?” Johnny offers, eyes carefully picking up signs of interest. Behind him, he knows the Golden Tiger Triplets are watching the interaction with great interest, and are bound to discuss this at length in the privacy of their quarters later. 

 

Mark shrugs, pretending to play it off cool. “I don’t see why not. A roof over my head, food to eat, water to drink, sounds much better than having to steal and live off the gutter.” 

 

Johnny smiles and nods, thanking the village chief and Mark.

  
  


That day, they go home with a new addition into their growing family. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“I’m thinking of asking him to be my son.” Ten clears his throat as he says this clearly, Doyoung’s mouth dropping open while Kun merely hums as he cleans his guzheng. Johnny is less surprised; they have talked about this before, but he is surprised by the fact that Ten had said this so openly. 

 

“He has all the qualities of a King. He is smart; he memorised the entire Great Learning,” in which Kun nods to confirm this, “He is agile and smooth, one of the best swordsmen,” in which Johnny nods his head in agreement, “He has a smart mouth and witty replies,” to which Doyoung huffs in annoyance, mildly upset that his job is being taken, “And all in all, a very pleasing person.” 

 

“Also, to note that he and Donghyuck are getting on very well, so there’s his guard settled.” 

 

As if to prove his point, bickering sounds from the door, and Johnny sighs and rubs his temples when a knock sounds from the door. Ten calls for them to enter, and Donghyuck and Mark walk in solemnly, whilst still glaring at each other. 

 

“Very well indeed.” Doyoung muses as he stares sharp at the two. 

 

Donghyuck drops to the floor, while Mark merely bows a ninety degrees; both immediately excused. 

 

Mark is invited to sit at the table while Donghyuck crosses over to stand next to Johnny, still glaring at Mark but with a slight upturn on his lips. 

 

Johnny can’t count the number of times Donghyuck had complained about how rude and sarcastic the other was sometimes, and yet sometimes can remain so silent it was frustrating, and how good he is with the sword, how smart he is with his words, so on and so forth. Johnny is tired of listening to the younger rant and he can vaguely feel the frustration Doyoung felt when Johnny and Ten weren’t talking. 

  
  


“Mark, you have been here for about six months already; how do you find it?” Ten asks, as Kun graciously pours the younger some tea. During the six months of his stay, Mark had respectfully picked up some royal manners, and holds his cup with both hands, thanking Kun immediately. In a way, he was easier to handle as compared to Ten during his younger years. Donghyuck had better be thankful. 

 

“It’s okay, my King.” He mutters against the cup. Despite the hardcore educating during the six months and his brightness, Mark still can’t quite wrap his head around using royal language; and it doesn’t help that he spends half his time with Doyoung, making it even worse. 

 

Ten hums in reply, watching the other cautiously sip tea. 

  
  


“I was actually wondering, if you would like to be the prince of China.” 

 

Mark coughs out his tea, Donghyuck snickering. Johnny shoots him a glare, and the smile dies, the younger looking sheepish. 

 

“I’m sorry…?” 

 

“In other words, I was wondering if you would like me to adopt you. If you do not want to, I will not force you; I would simply like to let you know that this is how I have been thinking.” Ten says slowly, wanting to ensure that the words sink in. 

 

Mark fiddles with his clothes. “But I’m not a royal….” 

 

“And neither was I. I do not need an answer now; I only request you think about it. Will that suit you?” Ten asks carefully, not wanting to pressurise the teenager. 

 

“Yea…” Mark trails off, his eyes searching for Donghyuck’s, uneasiness practically radiating off him. 

 

“Alright, then, you may go. And Guard Lee?” Ten calls and Donghyuck straightens, inclining his head. 

 

“Please, do this on my behalf, and take good care of Mark. You know the ways of the royals more than he does; please, watch out for him.” Donghyuck nods rapidly, and bows deeply. They are excused after, Mark’s eyebrows furrowing deep. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


It is nearly a year later, and still, Mark has not given them a reply. 

 

“I told you, he will not accept it so easily.” Johnny says quietly, carding his fingers through Ten’s hair. For months, they have done this, and despite a few floating rumours, no one questions Johnny when he slips in after the King during nightfall, and not make an appearance until dawn. 

 

“I know, I know. He is more stubborn and prideful than me, in that way. It’s okay. Let him take his time. A lot has happened.” Ten breathes out, as he feels Johnny’s lips gently trace his jaw and down his throat. 

  
  
  


“Tomorrow is the Annual Animal Appreciation, love.” Johnny’s words whisper over the skin, and Ten feels his heart do a flip flop at the pet names. They could only say this between the two of them during these late nights; and Ten treasured each one of them in his heart. Because these are the times, when he is just Ten, and Johnny is just Johnny; no guard, no King. 

 

“I know. I’m thinking of skipping the dinner, and bringing Mark and Donghyuck to go see Landa and Sae. The last time I saw them, Sae was pregnant, I think. Maybe we can go see the cubs, and perhaps convince Mark with them.” He chuckles softly, twirling Johnny’s dark hair as the elder kisses down to the hipbone, Ten’s back arching as he breathes deep. 

 

Johnny traces his way back up as he hums in reply, settling down with one last kiss on Ten’s lips. “Sounds like a plan, love.” 

  
  


“Also, Johnny?” Ten’s voice shakes just a little, and Johnny’s fingers are already intertwining with his to calm him down.

 

“Hmmm?” 

 

“I haven’t had a breakdown in twelve months. That’s a whole year.” He says proudly.

 

“Well done, love.” Johnny breathes out as he seals his lips with Ten’s, genuinely feeling the swell of pride in his heart. 

 

“So I was thinking…” Ten swallows as he feels Johnny’s eyes on him. 

 

“Um, well, maybe if you’re always around, I won’t have a breakdown anymore.” Ten says quietly, feeling nervous for the first time in years. 

 

“I’m always around.” Johnny says, a tad bit confused. 

 

“Yea, well what I mean is….” Ten stumbles over his words, not quite knowing how to speak his mind. 

 

“Are you asking me to marry you?” Johnny asks, cautiously. 

 

“Yes.” Ten breathes out in relief, locking eyes with Johnny, lost in their sincerity and love. “Yes.” 

 

“I don’t mind, love, but you better tell Doyoung and Kun so that they can formulate a plan to change the policy, and a way to convince the officials.” Johnny says easily, brushing Ten’s hair out of his eyes. 

 

Ten chuckles. _ It was that easy. _ He falls back on the pillow, head tucked under Johnny’s chin while he plays with the prominent veins on his guard’s fingers. “Don’t worry, they got it settled this morning during the court meeting.” 

 

“Really?” Johnny asks, in genuine surprise. Ten rolls his eyes. “This is why, you should listen a little more to the meetings, instead of dozing off with your eyes open. It is creepy, and unacceptable.” Johnny chuckles sheepishly, amazed at how Ten could know this, despite being so busy with the procedures. 

 

“The only part left, was me formally asking you, in which I have been delaying for months, so…” 

  
“Is proposing to me really the hardest thing out of all of this?” Johnny teases, earning him a sharp jab to his side. 

 

“Don’t tease, and yes it is. I was afraid you would back out and say no.” 

 

It unknowingly stabs Johnny in the gut and he sighs, pulling the King impossibly closer, lips on the ear as he nips on the skin near the multiple piercings. 

 

“How can I possibly say no to this?” He whispers, and he can feel small drops of tears soak his shirt, but he knows, that they are tears of joy, mingled with a little regret, a recollection of the six years that they lost together. 

 

Johnny closes his eyes and breathes in Ten’s lavender scent. No more time to waste. 

  
  
  
  
  


Donghyuck thinks they are out of earshot, but they aren’t, and Johnny can hear every single complain about how cold it is, falling from the younger’s lips. He squeezes Ten’s shoulders tighter in attempt to stop the royal from bursting out in laughter, while he himself tries to hide his chuckle when he hears Mark retort back and tell him to ‘shut the fuck up’. A curious dynamic indeed. 

 

They fall in silence however, when they near the den, Ten sighing in contentment as he speedily heads towards the cave. Donghyuck opens his mouth in protest, but Johnny raises his hand, halting him. A smirk on his lips as he watches the two mouths drop in awe and surprise, as Ten emerges from the cave, two majestic creatures by his side, and two small cubs in his hands, his eyes brimming from tears. 

 

Johnny forgoes any formality; it’s just the four of them after all, and presses his nose into Ten’s hair, kissing him gently as he strokes the tiger cubs fur, pointedly ignoring the seeming glares from Landa and Sae. So many years, and they still do not quite like each other, but they will make do, for the love of Ten. 

 

“Landa and Sae.” Ten says quietly as he looks at Mark, who simply, cautiously runs his hands through Landa’s fur, Donghyuck holding his wrist with iron grip as he watches the interaction cautiously. 

 

Ten speaks to the tigers in a mix of Thai and who knows what else, as if the tigers could understand. But the deep bond they have does give them that connection, and the tigers nudge the cubs into Ten’s arms, tears clumping their fur as Ten thanks them softly. 

 

“Here.” Ten whispers, holding one tiger out to Mark, who carefully accepts the tiger, staring into those beautiful, animal eyes, holding his breath. The other tiger clasps at his feet for attention, and they sit near the trees. Ten leans against Johnny as he lazily strokes the tiger’s fur and they pur, watching in contentment as Mark speaks softly to the small tigers, them squirming in delight as they sniff and pull, playing with the idea of a human master.

 

“They are beautiful.” Mark breathes out, catching Ten’s eye. 

 

“Well, they are of the purest breed, so of course. One’s a male, one’s a female; what will you name them?” Ten asks gently. 

 

“Can I name them?” Donghyuck pipes out and Mark rolls his eyes, but with affection sparkling in his eyes. Johnny suppresses a smile as he kisses the curve of Ten’s ear, a weird sensation of warmth and longing bubbling in the pit of his stomach. 

 

“Whatever you want, guard.” Mark says, emphasising on the ‘guard’. “But I name the female and you name the male.” 

 

“But I want to name them  _ both _ .” Donghyuck insist, crossing his arms, seemingly forgoing any formality as well; it’s just the four of them after all. 

 

“No, they are  _ mine _ ; you should already be grateful you are naming one.” Mark argues back, glaring at the guard. 

 

“But I want to name them both.” Donghyuck whines and he pouts. “ _ Please _ , Mark.” 

 

An unknown communication of silent words passes between the two of them, and Johnny watches with curious attention as Mark relents and scoffs, muttering something about “I’m the royal”. Having ever sharp senses, Ten picks it up, and raised eyebrow, he asks. “You accept my offer?” 

 

Mark truly flushes this time, and mutters a quiet ‘yes’. 

 

“ _ I  _ convinced him.” Donghyuck says as he flashes his sunny smile, pointedly ignoring Mark’s retort of “he did  _ no _ t”, and plays happily with the cubs, oblivious to Mark’s burning eyes and stony face, lips twitching upwards. 

  
  
  


Johnny watches contentedly, feeding off Ten’s warmth as he presses another sweet kiss onto Ten’s lips, feeling complete, a full circle drawn. Life never is a straight road; from losing his entire family in two years, to becoming a royal guard, and now betrothed to the King, whilst watching another young, love story unfold before him, happiness is inevitable. 

  
  


“I love you.” Johnny whispers, just for the two of them to hear, when Mark and Donghyuck run out to the field, running beside the tiger cubs. 

 

“I know.” Ten says as he turns around to seat himself in Johnny’s lap, fingers just barely playing with the hair on the back of Johnny’s neck. “I love you too.” He breathes out as he leans forward, sealing their lips together. “Thank you for staying with me.” 

 

“Always, my King,” Johnny replies easily, rubbing circles on Ten’s back. 

  
  
  


“I will always stay by your side.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the sequel to this fic will be called 'the pages we write', a markhyuck fic. this fic is special and not so simple, plus i have to sync it with this fic; so the updates will be less frequent, though i'm really working on it! 
> 
> it will probably be released on a weekly/twice a week basis, during the same time as hiraeth's weekly update (fridays/saturdays). 
> 
> [hiraeth](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16208459/chapters/37882865) is a taeten fic that im constantly working on, together with these side fics that i just indulge in and like rush-write in a few days. i hope you'll check it out!
> 
> [the Pages we write](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16865842/chapters/39603922)

**Author's Note:**

> social media:  
> [tumblr](https://tenecity.tumblr.com/)  
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/tenecty)  
> [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me)


End file.
